


Shifting Perceptions

by SilverBirchStudio



Category: Inspector Lynley - All Media Types, Inspector Lynley Mysteries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-11 11:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 37,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3325229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverBirchStudio/pseuds/SilverBirchStudio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspector Lynley Mysteries: Tommy Lynley has started to think of his partner, Barbara Havers, differently, but isn't sure how to handle this shift in his perceptions. How will it change their relationship? COMPLETE!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This is my very first fanfic published, so keep that in mind, please - I was inspired by all the clever fanfiction writers who have written about these wonderful characters before. I am a huge fan of the Inspector Lynley Mysteries from BBC, and have borrowed their characters to play with just for fun and at no profit to myself, and I promise to return them unharmed, but hopefully very satisfied...I've never read the Elizabeth George novels, and can't believe anyone would keep Tommy and Barbara apart on purpose, but I thank her for creating them...

••••••••••••••••••••••

Detective Inspector Tommy Lynley sighed deeply, then tried once more to concentrate on the mound of paperwork cluttering his desk, but found himself reading the same line over and over without it making any more sense than it had the first time. 

His shoulders sagged; his muscles ached. He was tired; in fact his whole team was exhausted after the murder case they had finally closed today after three weeks of hard police work. The fact that they had caught the bastard didn’t erase the image of the victim from his mind, the strangulation marks standing out in stark contrast to the pale skin on the young woman’s throat…

“Fancy a drink, sir?” Barbara Havers’ voice interrupted his train of thought, and he lifted his head with a smile for his sergeant. “C’mon then, some of the lads and I are headed down to the pub.”

“I really need to stay and finish some of this paperwork, Havers,” Lynley said.

“Rubbish! That stack will still be there tomorrow,” Barbara told him, sensing his hesitation. “You owe it to the team to celebrate with them after all their hard work capturing Monahan. Even Lafferty’s agreed to leave his dungeon – sorry, I mean morgue – and join us.”

“Right then, that settles it. I couldn’t possibly disappoint Lafferty, now could I?” Tommy laughed, pushing himself back from the desk and reaching for his jacket. Barbara’s green eyes lit up in response, and they headed for the door.

It was Friday night, so it was no surprise the pub was busy, full of noisy patrons who already had a few drinks under their belts. Tommy looked over at Barbara, who shrugged back apologetically. DC Nkata, and his “partners in crime,” as he called them, McConnell and Cook, had selected tonight’s location, and the trendy, modern bar was a far cry from their usual pub, The Acorn and Ivy, with its dark woods and quiet coziness.

McConnell was shamed into buying the first round, and they had just settled at a table when Stuart Lafferty joined them, depositing his helmet at his feet under the table.

“Now I know why you lot chose this place,” Lafferty teased. “ It’s a real meat market, this is. You hoping to get lucky tonight, Winnie?”

“You know I don’t need luck, Lafferty,” Nkata objected, dreadlocks shaking and dark eyes twinkling as he laughed at the pathologist. “I do just fine on my own. Cook and McConnell here though, they need all the help they can get, and we wanted Havers to have a nice selection of buff young lads to choose from.”

Nkata’s comment resulted in a great deal of hooting and hollering from the table, and earned him a sharp jab in the ribs from Barbara’s elbow.

“Oh, right, like I would lower my standards enough to take on any of the men here,” she scoffed. “ And the biggest losers of all are right here at this table!”

“Wait a minute,” Tommy protested, smiling. “How did I get on this loser list of yours? I had nothing to do with tonight’s choice of pub, and I haven’t done anything to piss you off lately, have I?”

Barbara looked at him and tilted her head, as if considering the list of his recent infractions against her. “You have been fairly well behaved lately,” she admitted, winking at him. “I’ll agree that you’re less of a loser than the rest of this sorry lot!”

“Well, Lynley, looks as though you’re the only one with a chance at going home with our lovely sergeant tonight,” Lafferty teased, causing Barbara’s cheeks to flush bright red.

The others laughed rowdily at the joke, but Lynley merely smiled and raised his glass to her. “I should be so lucky.”

Barbara turned an even more intense shade of red, and drained her glass to hide her embarrassment. What on earth had possessed her to joke with Tommy like that? It had verged on flirting. It was one thing to have a laugh with Nkata or the others under the circumstances, a fun night out with co-workers and friends, but with Lynley? It cut far too close to the bone. 

She scolded herself internally, for some lines in the sand were not meant to be crossed, and her friendly working relationship with eight earl of Asherton was one of those lines.

“Right then, Lynley, since you seem to be the ‘lord of the losers’ tonight, you buy the next round,” Lafferty said before he mercifully changed the subject to the football game playing on the television mounted above the bar.

Tommy smiled and headed to the bar to order the next round of drinks with a vague sense of unease in his stomach. He was used to the “blokeyness,” for lack of a better word, that pervaded the Met, no matter how many inroads women had made in the force, but somehow seeing his sergeant bear the brunt of the joke made him very uncomfortable. 

His working relationship with Havers - their friendship, for he thought of them as friends in spite of all their differences, or perhaps because of them - shouldn’t be the subject of laughter, even if Lafferty hadn’t meant anything by it. 

Lynley looked back at the table, and saw that Barbara had recovered from her embarrassment and was laughing at some story Winnie was telling, so he resolved to get over himself, and headed back to the table with the drinks. Odd though, that he should feel so protective of her feelings.

After the next round, McConnell and Cook headed off home, having an earlier call in the morning than the others, and Lafferty left just a short time later, not wanting to drink anymore since he had his motorcycle to drive home. 

Nkata went for the next round, but got sidetracked by a pretty blonde in a short skirt when he got to the bar, as Barbara and Tommy looked on with amusement.

“I don’t know if we should hold our breaths for that next pint, Sergeant,” Tommy chuckled. “I think Nkata may have forgotten our order.”

“No worries, this one is on me, and then we’ll head home,” Barbara said. “And next time, we’ll do our regular, quiet, cozy pub and leave the meat market to the likes of DC Nkata, yeah?!”

“All right, but I’ll hold you to that, Havers!”

Lynley watched Barbara as she headed up to the bar and flagged down the barman, her red-gold hair shining, backlit by the neon behind the counter. He saw the obviously inebriated man seated next to her say something, and laughed softly to himself as he imagined her highly sarcastic comment back.

Tommy’s smile faded, however as he watched the look on Barbara’s face when she heard the man’s reply. He was already out of his seat and headed for the bar when he saw the drunk man reach out and stroke her rear end.

Thinking back on it later, Lynley couldn’t remember any conscious thought behind what he did, only emotion; just heat and anger and fury flooding his body, and the instinct to protect his Barbara from this drunken lout.

“Sir, stop, it’s no big deal, sir,” Barbara called out repeatedly. “Let him go, sir, please….Tommy, please.” 

Barbara saying his name finally got through to Lynley. He looked down and realized he had the bastard face down on the bar with one hand constrained behind the man’s back.

“Apologize for your rude behaviour to the lady,” Lynley snarled through gritted teeth.

“Look, mate, I’m sorry, really I am,” the drunk whimpered against the sticky marble surface of the bartop. “I didn’t know she was taken, you know? Pretty woman at the bar, you can’t blame a bloke for trying. I didn’t know she was here with someone, truly.”

“She is with me, understood?” Lynley snapped, pushing the man’s face harder into the bar, then letting him go abruptly. He turned to face Barbara’s huge green eyes, and grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb over her fingers. Whether he was trying to reassure her or himself, he wasn’t sure. “Are you all right?”

“Fine, sir, really, I’m fine. Let’s go, let’s get out of here,” Barbara replied, pulling her hand away from his. “Time to go home, I think.”

They retrieved their coats and headed outside into the cold night air. No taxis in sight, of course, so they began to wander down to the next cross road, hoping to find some there. Tommy was still fuming inside after what had happened, every nerve and muscle still tense.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Barbara?” he asked, his voice still curt and clipped.

She stopped, and turned to face him, reaching out her hand to touch his upper arm. “It was no big deal, sir, really. I wouldn’t be much of a police woman if I couldn’t handle a drunken idiot in a bar, would I?”

“No woman should have to put up with something like that, especially not you,” he replied, reaching out to brush her hair away from her face. “Let’s find a taxi, I’ll escort you home.”

“You don’t need to do that, sir, I’ll be fine on my own,” Barbara protested.

“I’ll escort you home, Sergeant,” Tommy insisted, in that tone that made even Havers hesitate to argue.

They found a taxi at the next corner, and settled into it, glad to be out of the cold and headed toward home. After Tommy gave the driver directions to her flat in Chalk Farm, they sat in companionable silence, as they so often did when traveling on cases. Barbara sighed in relief, glad the day was over, relieved the incident at the pub had not been worse, happy to be heading home.

Tommy, though, was not quite so comfortable. All of the sudden he was terribly aware of his sergeant, his friend, Barbara Havers, as a woman. He had never really thought of her as a woman before, not really. Not as an object of desire by other men. Certainly never as something he would desire himself.

Tonight, though, something had shifted. His anger when the idiot at the bar had fondled her was something primal, something terribly possessive. And he had no idea how to handle this new knowledge, this new awareness of her, what to do with it. Even now, he could smell her perfume, feel the warmth of her body near him in the back of the taxi, even though they were not quite touching.

The driver pulled up in front of Barbara’s flat and stopped. She turned toward Tommy and put her hand on his arm once again.

“Thanks for everything, sir. I don’t think anybody has ever defended my honor before, whether it was necessary or not,” she said.

“Anytime, Havers, anytime,” Lynley replied, and he leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. She gasped a bit, and retreated, and he cursed himself for being so uncharacteristically forward with her. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow, sir,” and with that, she was gone, running up the steps to the entrance of her flat. He leaned back in the seat of the taxi, making sure she was inside and safe before he told the taxi to drive on.


	2. Chapter 2

This is my very first fanfic published, so keep that in mind, please - I was inspired by all the clever fanfiction writers who have written about these wonderful characters before. I am a huge fan of the Inspector Lynley Mysteries from BBC, and have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and at no profit to myself, and I promise to return them unharmed, but hopefully very satisfied...I've never read the Elizabeth George novels, and can't believe anyone would keep Tommy and Barbara apart on purpose, but I thank her for creating them...

••••••••••••••••••••••

The sounds of voices outside his office distracted Tommy Lynley from the never diminishing pile of paperwork on his desk. He was having trouble concentrating today, still stuck on the events at the pub the night before. He sighed and rose to close the door, hoping to shut out these interruptions so he could concentrate on his work.

When he reached the door, however, the voices came through more clearly, and he tilted his head, trying to analyze the familiar sound he heard. “Judith?” he asked, questioning whether or not he really heard his sister’s voice. The only answer was a peal of laughter from his sergeant, Barbara Havers.

Grabbing his teacup, Lynley headed down the hall toward the break room to investigate the sound, and sure enough, there was his sister, sitting at Barbara’s desk, the two of them thick as thieves and having a grand old time, at his expense, no doubt.

“Judith, what are you doing here?” he asked, reaching over to give his sister a quick peck on the cheek.

“Hullo, Tommy, good to see you, too! I’m here to drag Barbara off for some shopping and so on. We arranged it the last time you two were down at Howenstowe,” his sister explained.

“Oh, really,” Tommy exclaimed, feeling slightly suspicious about any ulterior motives his sister might have. ”Well far be it for me to stand in your way.”

“Not that you could, anyway, sir. Five o’clock, and my time is now my own,” Havers stated. “Ready, Judith?!”

“Don’t work too late, Tommy, dear,” Judith said, blowing her brother a kiss, and then they were off, leaving Lynley shaking his head in their wake.

Who knew the two of them were friendly enough to do shopping trips together? His sergeant certainly seemed to be full of surprises these days, Lynley thought, as he refilled his teacup and headed back to his office.

“Right then, dress shops tonight, and then since tomorrow is your day off, we’re headed to my favorite salon for a facial and a haircut, then lunch or afternoon tea,” Judith announced. “It’s time you treated yourself to a little pampering!”

All of Barbara’s protests were pointless, as Judith refused to listen to a single thing she said. At the first boutique, though, warily eyeing the colorful armful of dresses Judith had pulled from the racks, Barbara put her foot down and refused to try on a single thing.

“What are we doing here, Judith? I would never ever wear something like this!” Barbara insisted, gingerly fingering a full-length cream silk gown with delicate beading all over the bodice. “I’d look a right sight showing up at a crime scene in that!”

Judith sighed, and spotting a hovering sales clerk, dragged Barbara to the dressing room for some privacy, hung the dresses up and pushed her protesting friend into a seated position on the plush ottoman in the corner.

“You have to promise not to say anything, not even to Tommy, all right?” Judith insisted, crouching down so she was on Barbara’s level. “At least for now, until I break it to the family.”

“About what? What on earth is going on?”

“We are here because we need outfits for my engagement party, and you need something to wear to my wedding,” Judith explained. “My daughter Stephanie will be my maid of honor, of course, but I want you to be my other bridesmaid, so this is my treat, all right?”

Barbara’s mouth opened in surprise, then closed again without saying anything. She leaned back against the wall of the dressing room, speechless.

“Barbara, you are like family to me. You’ve become a dear friend to me, and you are the most important person in my brother’s life since Helen’s death, so of course I want you to be there for my engagement and wedding,” Judith said, grasping both of her hands. “Don’t even think about trying to weasel out of this, or giving me any of your anti-upper class crap!”

“I have no idea what to say to all of this,” Barbara finally confessed. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Actually, he’s one of ‘your lot’ in a way, little miss class conscious! His name’s David, David Marsden. He’s originally from the East End, got a scholarship and worked his way through school at the University of London. David’s self-made, started his own computer software company, and it took off,” Judith explained.

“We met at a charity event about a year ago when his company was funding one of the causes I support. I think you’ll really like him, Barbara. At least I hope so. I’d like you to be on our side when I introduce him to Tommy and the rest of the family.”

“Well, of course I’ll be there for you, and I can’t wait to meet him,” Barbara assured her.

“Excellent! Right then, let’s see you in this sea-foam green number that will really bring out your eyes!’

That evening and the next day were a whirlwind, as Judith whisked Barbara into and out of shop after shop, took her to get their hair cut and styled, and despite strenuous objections from the reluctant makeover victim, got facials and had their makeup done.

On paper, it sounded like Barbara’s worst nightmare, but somehow, with Judith guiding her through, explaining why certain colors or styles worked for her, it wasn’t so bad.

By the time the shopping excursion was done, Barbara had spent a bit of her own hard earned cash on some new clothes – off the sales rack, of course – in addition to the dresses for the engagement party and wedding. The hair and makeup were perhaps the real revelation, though.

“Oh, my god, Barbara, you look amazing,” Judith exclaimed when she saw the finished effect, turning her this way and that to admire the final result. “You’ve always been pretty, but now…you are going to turn heads for sure!”

Barbara laughed and shook her head in denial, but looking at herself in the salon mirror, she had to admit that her appearance made her feel, well, _good_ about herself for the first time in a very long while. She had been growing her hair out for some time, but now that it was shaped, and falling softly around her shoulders, with just a bit of subtle makeup to set off her features…

“You know, I used to care more about how I looked, clothes and makeup and so on, but I think at some point I just gave up,” she confessed to Judith, her green eyes suspiciously bright. “Between taking care of my parents, dealing with everyday life and the demands of the job, it was all too much. This feels really nice though, to see myself looking…presentable for a change. Thanks for that, truly.”

Judith put her hands on Barbara’s shoulders, squeezing tightly to show her sympathy. “It’s the least I could do after everything you’ve done for my family. My mother feels the same way, you know. I don’t think Tommy could have recovered after Helen’s death if it weren’t for you.”

“Anyone would have done the same,” Barbara declared, raising her chin a little as if daring Judith to disagree with the statement.

Judith looked her in the eyes, laughing just a little at her friend’s bravado. “No one else _could_ have done what you did for my brother. He wouldn’t have let them. You brought him back to us, back to the land of the living.”

Barbara looked down and away, unable to hold Judith’s intent gaze any longer. It was painfully awkward to be under the microscope like this, with Lynley’s sister of all people.

To have someone, anyone else examine her relationship with her – what was he anyway? – her boss, her friend, her DI, she’d never admit to more than that, even to herself. It was intensely private, just between the two of them, nothing that could be explained to an outsider.

Judith could sense Barbara’s discomfort, the emotion radiating off of the other woman’s body in waves, and took pity on her. “At any rate, you look a lot more than just presentable,” she said lightheartedly. “You are gorgeous!”

“I refuse to give up my baggy jumpers, though,” Barbara warned, smiling ruefully. “They’re comfortable!”

“Right then, my reluctant beauty, time for a treat after all our hard work,” Judith declared. “Champagne with our afternoon tea, I think, as we’ve well and truly earned it!”

“You toffs,” Barbara said, rolling her eyes. “All this decadence and living the high life, how am I supposed to go back to the crap tea in the Met break room tomorrow?”

“Actually, you have to promise me you’ll put some of this on tomorrow before you head into work,” Judith told her, handing her a gift bag filled with the cosmetics the makeup artist had used.

“I would give a great deal to be a fly on the wall in that office when you arrive tomorrow morning. I would love to see the jaws drop when they get a look at the new you!”

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

A little sidetrack into a mystery here…This chapter has some graphic scenes of violence in it, so fair warning to all of you faint-hearted readers.

I am a huge fan of the Inspector Lynley Mysteries from BBC, and have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and at no profit to myself, and I promise to return them unharmed, but hopefully very satisfied...I've never read the Elizabeth George novels, and can't believe anyone would keep Tommy and Barbara apart on purpose, but I thank her for creating them...

••••••••••••••••••••••

The next morning, Barbara’s usual last-minute scramble to get ready for work was interrupted by her mobile ringing insistently on the other side of the flat. Her mad dash to answer it nearly ended in disaster when she tripped over her bag, so it was a very out-of-sorts detective sergeant who answered the phone.

“Havers!” she snapped, without even checking the caller ID.

“Have you left for work yet?” Lynley’s voice was neutral, but his rich, smooth baritone put her on the defensive immediately.

“I was just about to! I’m not late, you know!”

“I never said you were,” he replied. “Stay there, and I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes. We have a case; I just got the call.”

Eighteen minutes later, the burgundy Bristol pulled up in front of Barbara’s flat, and even though she was ready and waiting for him, Lynley’s long legs had him half way to her front door before she could lock up and make her way to the car.

“Coffee?” he asked, handing her a steaming cup, a very welcome sight in the cold, drizzly morning air. The caffeine earned him a huge smile, making it more than worth the effort to stop and fetch it. Funny how that smile could make his chest tighten up just a bit, he thought, as they settled into the classic car and fastened their seat belts.

Barbara warmed her hands on the oh-so-welcome to-go cup, took a sip, and then leaned back into the familiar leather seat with a sigh of contentment. She would never, ever admit it to his lordship, but after all the years of working together, driving to crime scenes, traveling on cases, his car felt like home somehow. The very scent of it was welcoming to her, smelling of leather and amber, vanilla and spice, something uniquely Tommy.

“So what have we got?” she asked, turning her attention back to the task at hand as she sipped on her hot coffee, watching him as he navigated through London traffic.

I don’t honestly know that much,” he told her. “The victim is a woman, in her twenties. She was found in Richfield Park* by an early morning jogger. SOCO is on the scene, Lafferty’s on his way, and that’s about it, really. We’ll be there shortly.”

Tommy pulled the car into the curb when they reached the scene a few minutes later, flashing his warrant card at the fresh-faced young uniform that hurried over to move them along before she realized who they were.

The two detectives ducked under the crime scene tape, and made their way carefully through the dewy wet grass, aware that SOCO had not finished canvassing the area. Havers slipped on the wet grass, and Lynley grabbed her arm instinctively, supporting her just above her elbow.

Barbara could feel the warmth of his hand penetrating through her clothing, her skin, through all the way down to the bone, it seemed. She stopped, staring at his hand on her arm for a second, then looked up at him. His raised eyebrows asked silently if she were all right.

Embarrassed, she blushed and continued on, pulling her arm away from his hand a little more abruptly than was strictly necessary. Being touched by him, even in the most innocent way, always set off warning bells in Barbara’s head, kicking her defenses into even higher gear than usual. She squared her shoulders and prepared to concentrate on the job at hand. Work was her usual way of escaping such deep, dark, murky waters.

Lynley sighed as he read her body language and followed her. Lafferty was already at the scene, crouched down next to the body, which was partially draped in a tarp.

“I see you’re traveling in style, as usual, Stu,” Havers said, nodding towards the helmet at his knees.

“Beat you lot here, didn’t I?” Lafferty taunted.

“So what have you found?” Lynley asked, ignoring their banter. Lafferty pulled the tarp further aside, and gestured toward the woman’s body.

“She’s been dead about 8-10 hours. Cause of death is blunt force trauma to the back of the head. A metal pipe, something like this, I’d say,” Lafferty told them, holding his hands about 50cm apart.

“She was hit several times from the front as well, punched with a fist, judging by the bruising I can see. Looks as though she raised her arms to protect her face, that’s where these marks came from,” the pathologist remarked, pointing to the forearms.

“Was her attacker male, do you think?” Lynley asked.

“Odds are, yes. Whoever did this to her was substantially taller, heavier and stronger than she was, judging by the marks on her and the angle of the killing blow,” Lafferty explained as he mimed a downward motion with his arm. “I’m guessing they got into an altercation, he hit her a few times, and then went after her with the weapon when she tried to run away.”

“Poor thing, she never stood a chance, did she,” Havers said sadly, looking down at the woman’s body. “She must be about the same height as I am.”

Lynley felt something inside his gut twist up as he thought of his sergeant trying to defend herself under such circumstances, and with a deep breath forced the image out of his mind.

“I take it there was no identification on the body?” Lynley asked. Lafferty shook his head.

“I’ll check with the SOCO officers and uniforms, see what they’ve turned up,” Barbara told them, heading towards the highest ranking officer she could see in the nearest cluster of black and white uniforms.

Lynley nodded to her, then turned back toward Lafferty. “Well, see what else you can find once you get the body back to the morgue, and keep us posted.”

“Aye, aye, your lordship!” Stuart said with a mock salute. He snapped his latex gloves as he pulled them off, hefted his helmet, and nodded his go-ahead to the morgue transport team waiting to take the body away.

Lynley rolled his eyes at Lafferty as the pathologist left, and then turned to look for his partner, eyes searching for her trademark red-gold hair that always identified her immediately, even in a crowd, but he scanned twice without seeing her.

The image of Havers in danger by an unknown attacker popped back into his head just then, and he had a moment’s panic when he couldn’t find her, which he suppressed immediately. _Idiot! Of course she’s fine, she’s surrounded by fellow police officers in the middle of a crime scene, for god’s sake._

“Havers!” he shouted out, scowling at his inability to find her. He saw the movement before he spotted her, caught the turn of her head out of the corner of his eye, and then that miraculous smile of hers lit up her face when their eyes met.

No wonder he had trouble spotting her, he thought, realizing that her normally unmistakable hair was secured behind her head in a sleek ponytail, which had become trapped inside her coat. He hadn’t paid any attention when he’d picked her up this morning. She headed toward him, and he met her halfway.

“I couldn’t find you, with your hair tied back like that,” Lynley grumbled. Before he could second-guess his action, he reached out and pulled the elastic band out, registering in passing how silky soft her hair was as he did it.

Havers grinned at him, her early mood forgotten. “Well, who’s a grumpy bastard today, even after his first coffee?”

Lynley’s tension eased a bit, relieved his partner had taken his action as she did, given that it was somehow…inappropriate. They had worked together for – he worked the maths in his head; had it really been two years since Helen died? – nearly ten years now. They had been to hell and back for each other.

Barbara had been demoted, he had been wrongly accused of murder, she’d been shot, he had drowned his sorrows in the bottle for months after Helen’s death until she finally dragged him back to reality, and through it all, with all they were to each other, there were certain boundaries that simply weren’t to be crossed under any circumstances.

Except now it seemed the boundaries in his head, the ones that kept Havers in her place, where she belonged, as his partner, his _work_ partner, well, those boundaries were now completely blurred for him. Perhaps blurred to the point of non-existence, and that frightened Tommy Lynley deeply.

Havers’ tug on his coat sleeve brought him back to the here-and-now. “Sir? Are you there?” He focused on those wide green eyes, and nodded.

“Let’s walk through it, talk through what might have happened while we wait for them to finish searching the park, yeah?” she said as she led him toward the edge of the park.

“Let’s say she lived in one of the flats that surrounds the park. She gets home a bit late, she’s been out for a drink with friends, or maybe she’s a student who had a late class,” Barbara suggested.

“All right then,” Lynley agreed. “She gets off the bus late, starts to cross the park in a shortcut to her flat. She sees someone at the edge of the park, maybe someone she knows, maybe not…”

“Exactly! He follows her, they have an altercation, he hits her, and she runs for her life across the park, trying to reach the safety of the lights, the traffic, her flat, on the other side of the park, but he catches up to her…”

“And it’s too late for her, he’s caught her. He hits her on the head, fatally. She falls and that row of bushes hides the body until the jogger finds her this morning,” Lynley concludes. “All right, sergeant, it’s a good working theory, but we’ve no identification on the victim, no suspect, and no proof of any of this!”

“Well, sir, in all fairness, we’ve only been here half an hour!” Havers protested. “Let’s take it logically. By the position of the body, and assuming she was running toward her flat, I’m guessing she lived in one of those three buildings over there, so I’ll organize some uniforms, and we’ll start asking questions of the neighbors there. Someone has to have seen something last night, or knows her. Any kind of information will help.”

“Fair enough, Havers,” Lynley conceded. “That’s a good start, and we’ll hope that SOCO or Lafferty has more for us to go on soon. I’ll head back to the Met, get Winston started on pulling CCTV of the park and surrounds. Can you make your way back on your own?”

Lynley’s question earned him the classic Havers’ side eye in response, but her answer was innocuous enough. “I’m sure I can manage, sir. See you later.”

As Lynley reached the Bristol, he turned back toward Barbara’s location, only to see her pull her hair back into a ponytail as she headed toward the uniforms to rally the troops. He chuckled to himself at this as he pulled out into traffic and headed toward the Met, although he wasn’t sure whether he was laughing at himself or Havers.

As Lynley pulled into the parking lot at the office, his mobile alerted him to a text. _SOCO found handbag ID matches. Vic name Lisa Ramsey. Headed to her flat now. More info soon._

Well done, Barbara, Tommy thought, now we’re getting somewhere. As soon as he reached their offices, he set Nkata onto the task of pulling any CCTV footage in the area of Richfield Park, and sat down at his computer to run the victim’s name through the police database to see if anything popped up.

The system didn’t take long to spit something back at him, and he texted the results to Havers: _Vic had restraining order. Domestic violence. X boyfriend, Steven Moore._

A couple of hours later, Lynley was getting frustrated. Nkata’s search had so far revealed nothing useful on the CCTV he had managed to find so far, there was no word from Lafferty, nothing more from SOCO, and he was hungry on top of it all. Havers’ next text came just at the right time.

_Headed back. Made some progress. R U hungry?_

He tapped away at his mobile _. Starving. Anxious to see your results!_

When Barbara showed up, Lynley was bent over Nkata’s shoulder, watching him plow through the CCTV coverage, and she had to stifle a giggle. Winston’s face was a study in desperation, his raised eyebrows pleading with her: Get the guv away from me, please!

“Lunch in your office, then?” she asked Lynley, holding up the takeaway bag as enticement. He nodded and followed her, shutting the door behind him after they entered his office. He tore into the sandwich she held out to him.

“So, what have you found?” he asked, mouth full of turkey and provolone.

Havers crunched on a crisp from the packet she had torn open on his desk between them before she answered.

“Spoke to the victim’s flatmate,” Havers said, mouth half full as she spoke. “Turns out Lisa lived in one of the buildings we talked about. The address was on her ID in the handbag, which SOCO found stuffed down a drain at the edge of the park. Maybe the murderer thought she wouldn’t be identified if he ditched the bag?”

“At any rate, the flatmate, Victoria Miller’s her name, she said Lisa had the lead in a community theater presentation nearby. Lisa was at a dress rehearsal last night, and Victoria didn’t expect her back until late, if at all. I guess the theater crew was in the habit of going out after rehearsals, and she thought Lisa had a thing for one of the actors in the production, so she assumed her flatmate had gotten lucky,” Barbara said, glancing at her notes as she spoke.

“And does this presumably lucky Lothario have a name?” Lynley enquired, reaching for a few crisps before they all disappeared.

“Victoria said her friend never told her his name. Didn’t want to jinx her chances or something like that. I’ve put a call in to the theater company, trying to get more information, but I haven’t heard back yet.”

“Did you ask about the ex-boyfriend?” Lynley asked. Havers raised her eyes to the ceiling, and made Lynley wait for her answer while she tucked into her sandwich.

“Of course I asked about Mr. Restraining Order,” she said once her bite of sandwich was semi-consumed. “Mr. Moore was quite the problem at one point, but they had not seen hide nor hair of him in about six months, according to Ms. Victoria Miller.”

“Well, I think it is time to track both of these ‘gentlemen’ down and rattle their cages a bit, don’t you, sergeant?” Lynley declared. He reached toward the packet of crisps, but his sergeant beat him to it.

“You’ll have to be a bit faster than that to get the last crisp, sir!”

•••••••••••••

*To the best of my knowledge (aka Google search) Richfield Park does not exist in London. This is intentional, as my knowledge of London is cursory at best!

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

I am a huge fan of the Inspector Lynley Mysteries from BBC, and have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and at no profit to myself, and I promise to return them unharmed, but hopefully very satisfied...I've never read the Elizabeth George novels, and can't believe anyone would keep Tommy and Barbara apart on purpose, but I thank her for creating them...I hope you enjoy!

••••••••••••••••••••••

Lynley cleared the remains of lunch from his desk, and searched for his portfolio notebook, looking somewhat longingly at the pile of reports and paperwork waiting for him, because even that mess was preferable to what he faced next: a departmental meeting. Mandatory for all staff from his grade on up, unfortunately.

Havers and McConnell were both on the phone as Tommy set out for the conference room, so he explained to Nkata where he was going, earning him a sincere look of sympathy on the other man’s face. Small consolation, he thought, as he boarded the elevator, switching his mobile to silent as he went.

The meeting proved to be as dry and boring and painful as predicted, full of charts and dire projections about budget cuts. He found his mind wandering as he sat there, and decided he might as well use the time wisely and go over what they knew about the case so far.

Tommy could picture the morning’s crime scene in his head, but for some reason, he kept seeing Barbara lying there in the park rather than Lisa Ramsey, pale and cold, her petite, fragile body covered in bruises. He pushed the image away, finding it far too disturbing.

When had he become so protective of Havers, he wondered. First with the drunken jackass at the pub last night, then again today at the crime scene. Really though, truth be told, it had started years ago, he thought, remembering the searing, gut-wrenching pain and despair he felt when she was shot; his rage at the armed offender squad officers holding him back from storming the pub in East Anglia where she was being held hostage…

As the next bar graph appeared on the screen at the far end of the conference room, Lynley let the scene play out in his head. Him, trying to reach her once they got inside, trying to break through her fear and fury.

He remembered grabbing her from behind, pulling her away to safety, to the open air, offering comfort, stroking her back, until she finally, finally, at long last let go, collapsing in tears against his chest, letting him hold her and press his cheek against her hair, tucking her under his chin where he could protect her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

And she truly was the most precious thing in the world to him, he realized. Love didn’t have to be desperate and obsessive, the way he had longed for Deborah once upon a time. Nor should it be merely convenient and expedient, as it had been for him with Helen.

Love could be unexpected and surprising and get under your skin before you even realized it was there. Love was a quiet drink in a cozy pub with someone whose smile lit up her entire face and made your chest ache from the beauty of it. The way it is with Barbara, he thought.

The sounds of papers being shuffled and chairs being pushed back from the conference table abruptly brought him back to the here and now. Lynley gathered his notes and made his way through the crowded corridors.

Detective Inspector Thomas Lynley, eight Earl of Asherton, having life-changing epiphanies in a fifth-floor conference room at New Scotland Yard. He smiled to himself at the absurdity of it.

When he rejoined the team, he saw a stranger sitting on the edge of Barbara’s desk, talking animatedly with her.

“Who’s that?” he asked Winston, indicating the unfamiliar man. “He’s made himself quite at home.”

“That’s Richardson, Barry Richardson. Works in narcotics,” Nkata replied. “Barmy Richardson is more like it if you ask me. He’s gone quite soft on our Barbara, he has. Graces us with ‘is presence on the regular.”

“Winston and I have a bet going, if you want in on it,” McConnell offered, laughing. “I say he eventually scores a date, Winnie swears it will never happen, that Barbara would never go for it.”

Lynley’s jaw tightened, and rather than responding to the young DC, he crossed the room in three quick strides. Standing immediately next to Barbara, he placed his hand on the back of her chair behind her shoulder and leaned in to glance at the papers in front of her.

“Anything new since I’ve been trapped in that blasted meeting?” Tommy asked. Havers reached for her notebook, but before she could say anything, Richardson spoke.

“Well, Barbara, I guess I’d best be off, then,” he said, rising from his perch on the edge of her desk.

“Yes, don’t let us keep you,” Lynley said, glancing at him, then turning back to Havers’ notes, the dismissal unmistakable.

Barbara nodded goodbye to the other man, offering a slight smile, thinking to herself that Lynley was in full “lord-of-the-manor” mode. His royal poncy-ness, indeed.

On the other side of the room, the other members of the team were doing their level best to keep from laughing out loud.

“Look at poor old Richardson, slinking off, tail tucked between ‘is legs,” Winston whispered to McConnell. “I’m telling you, the DI gets right territorial about her sometimes.”

“Let’s see what you’ve got, Havers,” Lynley said. “Bring your notes to my office.”

Settled back in his office, Barbara reviewed their progress. “Winnie and McConnell are still reviewing the CCTV footage, but have seen nothing useful so far. I heard back from the theatre, and the next rehearsal is tomorrow afternoon, so we should be able to talk to everyone in the production at once.”

Lynley nodded. “Makes sense. I’ll go with you to do those interviews.”

“We have a lead on a workplace for our restraining order poster boy, so Cook’s taken a uniform with him and gone to chase that up,” Barbara continued. “The victim’s parents live in Preston, so I got the locals to notify them. Doesn’t sound as though there were any family issues between Lisa and her mum and dad, so I think we can rule them out. I think that’s it so far.”

“What about her phone?” Lynley asked, thinking of it suddenly.

“Oh, yeah, I meant to tell you about that,” Havers said, inwardly cringing for forgetting. “There was no mobile in her bag, which seems a bit odd, given that everything else was there, ID, credit cards, Oyster card, all present and accounted for. I had them double check the drain again where they found the bag, but it wasn’t there. I’ve requested the phone records, of course.”

Lynley sat there, staring off into space, deep in thought, so Barbara started to leave, but he motioned her back into her chair, and closed the door to the office before turning back to face her.

“Winston happened to mention that Richardson’s been a fairly regular visitor here lately,” Lynley said. “I’m happy to have a word with his superior if he’s being…if his attentions are unwelcome.”

Havers squirmed in her seat, cheeks flushed. “Unwelcome attentions! What am I, some Victorian maiden with a case of the vapors? Honestly, sir, it’s nothing, he’s just being friendly, that’s all.”

“Well, Nkata and McConnell are taking bets over the outcome of Mr. Richardson’s friendly little visits,” Lynley told her, his own face reddening just a touch. “Winston says no dice, but Jack’s laying money on him scoring a date.”

Havers stood, her whole body quivering with anger. “Well, Winnie’s got himself a sure bet then!” she swore as she stormed out of Lynley’s office.

Tommy sighed after she left, but had to admit to himself he was glad Nkata was in the money with that bet. The whole situation had been horribly awkward, though.

Havers was in a bit of a snit for the rest of the afternoon, and her mood permeated the feelings of the rest of the team. Cook returned to the office empty-handed. Steven Moore had not shown up for work that day, and the address on file for him with his employer was invalid, for he had moved out six weeks previously.

Havers left the office on time for once. Nkata and McConnell soldiered on with the video footage for another hour or so, but left without finding anything useful. Any progress on the case would have to wait for the following day.

•••••••••••••

Lynley’s landline was ringing as he arrived home, exhausted from the long, frustrating – and emotionally draining – day at work. He glanced at the caller ID and sighed deeply. Judith, of course. Resigned to the inevitable, he picked up.

“Hullo?” he answered, dropping his briefcase full of files on the floor and headed toward the bar. Surely he deserved a glass of single-malt scotch tonight. Maybe he’d earned himself a glass of the Glenmorangie 18 year old…

“Tommy!” Judith’s voice echoed in his head, larger than life through the telephone line. “So, did anything exciting happen at work today?”

Lynley found the Glenmorangie, and poured himself a healthy shot as he propped the headset into his shoulder. “Nothing that out of the ordinary,” he told his sister. “We’re working on a new case, a murder in a park here in London.”

“But what about Barbara, and her makeover?” Judith screeched, the level of her voice causing Tommy to pull the phone away form his ear just a bit.

“Makeover? What on earth are you talking about? What have you done to Havers?”

“Tommy, honestly, haven’t you been paying attention?” Judith demanded. “We went to the salon, had her hair done, makeup, bought new clothes…she was meant to show it off when she arrived at the office this morning!”

“Well, Judith, I don’t know what to tell you,” Tommy replied, exasperation obvious in his voice. “We got a call about a case first thing this morning, I picked her up a her flat. It was raining. There was no makeup that I could see, and her hair was tied back. Barbara was her usual self. End of story! Why would you mess about with her, anyway? She’s perfectly fine as she is!”

“Well, never mind. I’ll call Barbara and give her hell,” Judith declared, and for a moment, he almost felt sorry for his sergeant. “I also called to arrange your social calendar for you.”

He groaned. “Right then, break it to me gently.”

“It won’t be so bad, really,” Judith promised. “Dinner, tomorrow night. I want you to meet someone – “

“I refuse to be set up on any blind dates, Judith!” Tommy cut in, determined to stop her before she got the bit between her teeth. In any event, all he really wanted to do after work tomorrow was to have a quiet drink with Barbara, perhaps talk with her about…

“No, no, no, it’s not that at all,” Judith assured him. “I want you to meet someone _I’m_ dating.”

That statement made him sit up and take notice. To the best of his knowledge, his sister had not really dated at all since her husband died nearly 5 years ago. Not seriously, at any rate, and certainly no one had been introduced to the family.

“Well, who is he?” Tommy demanded, trying not to let thoughts of background checks run through his head.

“You’ll find out tomorrow. 8pm at The Wolseley*? Please, Tommy, this is important to me.” Judith’s voice was low and intense, even through the telephone line, and he could tell that this dinner mattered deeply for her.

“I’ll be there,” he assured her. “I look forward to meeting your date.”

“Excellent!” Judith exclaimed. “Which leaves me one more teensy little thing to add to your calendar. I’m arranging a party at Howenstow in a week and a half. The party’s on the Saturday, that’s the 17th, but I want you to come down to Cornwall for the whole weekend.”

“Come down for the whole weekend? Honestly, Judith, I don’t think I can possibly - ”

“Tommy, it’s been ages since you’ve been down to check on things and to see mother,” Judith scolded. “Again, this is something I really need you to do.”

“All right then, if you insist,” Tommy agreed, grudgingly, thumbing through the calendar on his mobile. “It looks as though my schedule is free, assuming Havers and I get this case wrapped up soon.”

“Oh, Tommy, I must go. You will give Barbara a lift down to Howenstow, won’t you? I’m inviting her for the weekend as well,” Judith said, and before Tommy could answer, his sister had rung off.

“Insane woman!” he declared, as he sank into the plush leather sofa in his study, propping his long legs on the coffee table as he lifted the glass of single-malt nectar to his lips. He had a great deal to think about.

••••••••••••••

Barbara Havers’ first thought when she arrived home was of a hot bath. Soaking in the luxuriously hot, fragrantly scented water, she tried to forget that embarrassing scene at the office.

How the hell was she supposed to know Richardson was keen on her? She would never, ever understand men! And then Tommy today, offering to protect her honor, more or less. Like he did last night at the pub as well …What was with that man lately?

So much for the relaxing bath, she thought, and then heard the phone ring, followed by Judith’s voice on the answering machine. She sank her ears beneath the water, drowning out the sound for now, but eventually the skin on her fingers and toes began to pucker, and she knew she couldn’t procrastinate about returning the call forever.

Pulling herself out of the tub, and wrapping herself in a cozy fleece robe, she reached for the phone and dialed. “Judith?”

“Barbara!” Judith exclaimed. “Now what’s this I hear about you showing up for work today with no makeup on, and your hair pulled pack in a hair elastic?!”

Barbara sighed. Her day just kept getting better and better. “I take it you’ve spoken with your brother, then?”

“I have spies everywhere, there’s no escaping me,” Judith told her, laughing. “I have another reason for calling as well. I want you to meet David tomorrow night at dinner. Eight o’clock at The Wolseley. It is quite posh, but you have all your lovely new clothes, and hair, and makeup, and I insist.”

“Judith, that sounds like hell on earth,” Barbara protested. “Couldn’t I just meet you somewhere more, well…ordinary?”

“David picked it, and I don’t want to disappoint him. No more arguments, just say you’ll be there! Also, I’ve set the date for the engagement party, the 17th, but remember, it’s still a secret to everyone else! Tommy and Mother know it’s a party, but don’t know the reason behind it.”

“You will be there, won’t you, Barbara?” Judith’s voice pleaded. “Both tomorrow and the weekend at Howenstow?”

“All right, I’ll be there,” Barbara agreed reluctantly, even though the whole thing sounded like complete torture. The Lynley were being a right pain in the ass lately, she thought.

••••••••••••••••

* The Wolseley is a real restaurant in London, but alas, my knowledge of it stems only from Google. I apologize if any of the details in the story are incorrect, but would be happy to travel to London at your expense to see it first-hand so that I can correct my mistakes!

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

I am a huge fan of the Inspector Lynley Mysteries from BBC, and have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and at no profit to myself, and I promise to return them unharmed, but hopefully very satisfied...I've never read the Elizabeth George novels, and can't believe anyone would keep Tommy and Barbara apart on purpose, but I thank her for creating them...I hope you enjoy!

This chapter has some graphic scenes in it at the morgue, so fair warning to all of you faint-hearted readers. (Although if you’re that delicate, why are you reading murder mysteries?!)

•••••••••••••••••••••••• 

For the first time in, well, possibly the first time ever, Barbara Havers woke up before her alarm clock went off. She had been having a dream where she was wearing a long white dress and being chased around the office by Barry Richardson.

Next Lynley appeared in a full-on 18th century gentleman’s costume and shot Richardson with a dueling pistol. The shot wasn’t what woke her up, though. After the shot, Lynley strode up to her, grabbed her around the waist and kissed her passionately. That most definitely woke her up, gasping and disoriented, not to mention secretly wishing the dream had continued to its logical conclusion.

Absolutely pathetic, Havers, she told herself. Going all soft and sentimental, fantasizing in your dreams over a man you’ll never have. No more bodice-rippers for you, my girl!

Barbara stuck her tongue out at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and went about her morning routine. When she got out of the shower, she realized she had extra time this morning, thanks to dreamland Tommy, enough time to blow dry her hair properly. Looking in the mirror when she was done, the outcome both surprised and pleased her. Red-gold waves falling softly around her shoulders – it wasn’t half bad, actually.

Perhaps Judith did know what she was doing after all, Barbara admitted, and decided to give the makeup her best attempt. A dusting of translucent powder, a touch of eyeliner; some mascara and a subtle, neutral gloss instead of her normal lip balm, nothing much, and it didn’t take that long, even with her lack of practice.

She studied the results of her efforts in the mirror, and had to confess to herself that it felt good to look nice for a change. Maybe it was worth spending an extra fifteen minutes in the morning on this kind of thing. Sometimes. Not every day, but occasionally.

Barbara moved to the wardrobe, in search of something to wear that didn’t need pressed, when her mobile went off. Lynley, of course – who else would ring this early?

“What?”

“Good morning to you, too, Havers,” Lynley said, not the least bit surprised by her typical morning snappishness. “Lafferty rang, he’s got some results for us. I thought I’d pick you up in twenty minutes and we’ll stop there before the office?”

“Yes, all right then, see you soon. There had better be coffee before I have to deal with the morgue!” She could hear Lynley laughing as she rang off.

Always a great way to start the day, Barbara grumbled as she grabbed some clothes. A body on a slab, a crazy Irishman and, to top it all off, his lordship, the eighth Earl of Asherton…it was enough to drive a woman to drink!

Seeing the fitted jacket she had purchased on the shopping trip with Judith, the one from the previous season that was on the final clearance rack at the back of the boutique, she put it on over her usual long-sleeved jumper and trousers.

Running her fingers over the luxe fabric, she had to admit it was a real pleasure to wear something so fine. The jacket fit her like a glove, so it was just as well she had selected a jumper that shrunk when she put it in the dryer accidentally. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror in the corner of her bedroom, turning back and forth, and, truth be told, preening just a little as she looked at her reflection. She jumped when the doorbell rang.

“Oh shit!” Grabbing her bag and mobile, she ran for the door. Lynley stood there, on her front step, and it was worth every bit of extra effort she had made that morning when his eyes widened at the sight of her and his mouth hung open just a wee bit.

“What?!” Barbara demanded, taken aback by his response.

“I, ah…nothing,” he replied, at first not his usual, smooth, patrician self, but then he recovered. “You just look even lovelier than usual this fine morning.”

This earned him the patented Barbara Havers eye roll. She locked her front door and they headed to the Bristol. He said nothing more as they settled into the cream leather seats, simply handed over her coffee. Even if nothing else good happened that day, he thought, the smile she gave him as she took the cup made it a very good day indeed.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Lafferty looked up as the entered and nodded a greeting, raising his protective eye shields. Looking at Barbara, he raised his eyebrows. Her eyes narrowed defensively, as if daring him to say anything.

“She walks in beauty like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies, and all that’s best of dark and bright meets in her aspect and her eyes*,” the pathologist quoted, then turned to Lynley to see his response.

“Too bloody easy,” he scoffed, registering that Lafferty had noted Barbara’s appearance. “Byron, of course. But what information do you have for us?”

“Easy, yes, but very apropos, don’t you think?” Lafferty replied, bowing slightly to Barbara, who tossed her head and crossed her arms, refusing to rise to the bait.

Lafferty sighed and walked over to the bank of chilled storage drawers on the far wall, pulling open the one that contained Lisa Ramsey’s body.

“Since neither the lady nor her lord appreciate my compliments, we’ll just get right to the business with the body, shall we?” He pulled back the covering sheet. “Everything I told you at the crime scene holds true, cause of death, etc., but I do have some new information after completing the postmortem.”

“I managed to pull partial prints from her arms where I’m assuming he grabbed her as the attack began,” Lafferty said, pointing to the prominent bruises on her forearms. “The partials aren’t enough to get an exact match, even if the murderer is in our databases, but there’s enough there that you will be able to rule suspects out.”

“Well that’s something, at any rate,” Havers said. “What else?”

“She had intercourse within a couple of hours of her death –“

“Was she raped?” Lynley asked, his voice sharp, tense.

“Well, here’s the thing,” Lafferty told them. “There are no signs of trauma that would indicate forcible rape. There are traces of lubricant and spermicide, so I’m guessing he used a condom. But, she had GHB in her system, so she was in no shape to give any consent to what happened, which makes it rape for sure.”

Lynley and Havers looked at each other. The presence of gamma hydroxybutyrate, a common date rape drug, in Lisa’s system added another level of ugliness to her sad, untimely death.

•••••••••••••••••••

Back at New Scotland Yard, the team was already assembled in their main office area, ready for the morning’s briefing. Havers ducked around Lynley, trying to slip into her seat unnoticed, and refused to acknowledge any of her co-workers appreciative glances at her or whispered comments amongst themselves.

Lynley reviewed Lafferty’s findings for the team. “Let’s get someone to check with Narcotics, see if we can get an idea on the availability these days of GHB, current sources, that kind of thing – “

“Maybe Richardson could come over and give us a presentation of some kind,” interjected McConnell, looking towards Barbara to see her reaction.

“Fancy him, do you, Jack?” she said. “Happy to set you up on a date if you like!”

“All right, that’s enough!” Lynley insisted, in a tone that immediately quieted the ripple of laughter in the room. “What about the CCTV footage?”

“Nothing yet, but we’ve got some new video in this morning, so hopefully there’s something useful there. Unfortunately, the trees and shrubbery in the park conceal quite a bit of the area,” Nkata replied.

“The ex-boyfriend?”

“I’m headed back to his workplace after we wrap things up here,” Cook explained. “He wasn’t there yesterday, but from what I gather, he’s not exactly a prime candidate for employee-of-the-month there, so it’s possible he’s not done a runner and could show up today, especially as it’s payday.”

“Good,” Lynley said. “Havers and I will be interviewing the members of the theatre company this afternoon to see if there’s anything worth pursuing there. Anything else?”

“Phone records just came in via email,” Havers said. “Also, I thought it might be worth looking through her social media accounts, see if anything there seems interesting. Might be worth asking the flatmate if we can borrow Lisa’s laptop as well.”

Lynley nodded. “Sounds as though we all have a busy day ahead of us. Time to get stuck into it.”

An hour or so later, the phone records had turned up nothing particularly useful. Lynley was pacing like a caged animal behind Barbara’s desk, frustrated at their complete lack of progress.

Barbara attempted to soothe the savage beast. “Don’t give up on this yet, sir,” her voice as encouraging as she could make it. “Let’s see if Lisa’s been a busy girl online. There might be something that could help.”

Lynley nodded, and moved closer so he could look over her shoulder at the computer screen. Her typing, at first fast and confident, became much more erratic as she became aware of his body behind her chair. He was not touching her, but she could swear that she felt the heat of his body as he leaned over her shoulder, his long-fingered hand braced against the edge of her desk. Damn the man, anyway, she thought; his hands alone could drive her to distraction.

She glanced over at him. “You’ll do your back in, leaning over like that,” she warned.

He grinned back at her, amused by her concern, and grabbed the nearest office chair, wheeling it over to sit next to her. Unfortunately for Barbara, it was no real improvement for her issue, as he now sat next to her instead of loomed over her, with the added problem of a muscular thigh very close to her leg.

From what they could tell from Lisa Ramsey’s online presence, she had been a perfectly ordinary young 22-year-old. Pictures of friends, complaints about too much workload at school interfering with her social life, gripes about her part-time job at a café; all of it seemed completely normal to the two detectives. Certainly there was nothing that raised any red flags.

“Lots of selfies,” Havers commented. “Of course she was a pretty girl, stands to reason.”

“Come now, sergeant,” Lynley teased. “Isn’t your Facebook full of selfies?”

Barbara made a face at him, then gestured to the computer screen. “Several of these recent pictures were obviously taken in a theatre, so we might see these people at the interview.” She tapped the screen on a young man’s smiling face. “He seems to feature prominently in a lot of the photos, so I’m guessing he might be the bloke she fancied, the one her flatmate talked about.”

“Print off a few of these, and we’ll see if we can’t match them up at the theatre when we get there,” Lynley suggested.

••••••••••••••••••••••

When they arrived at the theatre that afternoon, it did not take long to figure out who was in charge of the production. A tiny powerhouse of a woman sat in the front row of seats, barking out orders with unmistakable authority. Havers and Lynley exchanged glances, both thinking the same thing: the woman was in her sixties and just barely five feet tall, so they could rule her out as the attacker.

Lynley explained who they were as they displayed their warrant cards, and the woman nodded.

“Of course, I’ve been expecting you,” she told them. “I’m Margaret Buchanan, the director. Terrible thing about what happened to Lisa. Saw it on the news. How can I help?”

“We’ll want a list of the cast and crew, please. Did she have any problems with anyone in the production that you were aware of?” Havers asked, getting her notebook and pen ready.

“I don’t think so. She was a sweet girl, seemed to get on well with everyone. She was a decent actress, not star material or anything like that, but she showed up to rehearsals on time, knew her lines,” the director said.

“Was she particularly close or friendly with any of the others?” Lynley asked.

Margaret pointed toward a young blonde woman standing at stage right. “That’s Susan Blake; they are – were – playing sisters in the show. Quite close during rehearsals and after parties as well. And then, I think she had a bit of a thing for Matthew Goddard, our male lead. I don’t see him at the moment, must be backstage.”

“Would that admiration have caused any issues, ruffled feathers?” Tommy asked.

Margaret Buchanan laughed. “I don’t think so. I’ve worked with Matthew before. He’s a decent actor and quite a tasty morsel if I do say so myself. Half the women in the production fancy him; a couple of the men, too I would guess. He’s a charming flirt, and I would say Lisa had just a simple crush on him, nothing more.”

“We’d like to have a word with Susan and Matthew, ma’am,” Havers said, gesturing to the back of the theatre. “All right if we set up back there for a bit of privacy?”

“Whatever you need, I’ll send them and that list over.”

Susan Blake got a bit teary-eyed as the questions started. “No, she wasn’t having any problems that I know of, and nobody would have wanted to hurt her. You have to find whoever did this – I still can’t believe she’s gone!”

“Tell us about the night before last,” Barbara urged her on, patting her arm in sympathy. “A group of you went out for a drink after the rehearsal, right? Who went? Anyone from these photos?” Havers spread out the pictures she had copied off the computer.

“Well, it was me, Lisa, Matthew, Greg, Monica, Liz, Rafael…I think that’s it,” Lisa answered, pointing out corresponding faces in the photos. “These pictures are from a different night, but we often went out after rehearsals. A couple of drinks at the local, just down the road from the theatre, that’s all.”

“Oh, I forgot, Malcolm was there, too, I always forget about him,” Susan said, fingering one of the photos. “He works backstage on sets and scenery and so on. Hangs around in the background, so you forget he was there.”

“We understand that Lisa was interested, romantically interested, in Matthew Goddard,” Lynley said. “Was it serious, did they leave together?”

“Oh, nothing like that – we all have a crush on Matthew, he’s gorgeous – but I don’t Lisa thought anything would really come of it. Just a flirtation, a bit of fun while we’re working on this production,” Susan explained. “I left before they did, but it would really surprise me if they left together.”

“Right then, I guess that’s it for now, but do call if you think of anything,” Havers said, handing over a card with the contact information on it.

Matthew Goddard was indeed the man who appeared in a number of Lisa’s social media photos, and Havers had to admit, was even better looking in person. He flashed Barbara a boyish grin as he sat down, more or less ignoring Lynley and putting all his attention on her.

“So, what can I do to help the police with poor Lisa’s case?”

“I understand you had quite the flirtation going on with Lisa.” Havers was unimpressed with the young man’s charms, and was not having any of it. The DI sat back and let his partner take the lead, since Matthew was playing to her already.

“I flirt with everyone!” Matthew grinned and winked at Barbara. “She was a sweet girl, but there was nothing else going on. I live with my long time girlfriend, and we are very happy.”

“Did you and Lisa leave the pub together the other night?”

“No, she was still there when I took off,” Matthew declared. “I said good night, and I think she went to the ladies’. Looked a bit off, as though she was getting a headache or something, now that I think about it. No idea what happened after that.”

“We’ll be in touch if we need you further,” Havers told him, taking down his address in her notebook.

Back at the office at the end of day, Lynley stared out his office window. The case seemed to be stalled, and it was frustrating. The ex-boyfriend had failed to show up for work once again, the CCTV was so far useless, no clear suspects at the theatre, although he was for damn sure checking further into that Matthew Goddard…

Tommy checked his watch, and realized there was enough time to have a drink with Barbara, and still be at the restaurant to meet Judith by 8pm. He switched off his computer and headed to her desk.

“Fancy a drink?”

“Oh, sorry, no, I can’t,” Barbara said apologetically. “I’ve got plans tonight.”

Lynley wanted very much – oh so much – to ask what those plans were, but forced himself to hold back. “Right then, see you tomorrow, I suppose.”

She nodded, and Tommy walked away, furious for feeling both irritated, because he was missing out on the pleasure of a drink with her, and jealous, because she had plans with someone else…damn her, anyway!

••••••••••••••••••••••

*Lynley is quite correct about the quote, it is indeed Lord Byron, and arguably one of the poet’s most famous, so very easy for our Eton and Oxford educated detective to pull that one out of his ass!

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Shifting Perceptions – Chapter 6

I've never read the Elizabeth George novels, and can't imagine Tommy as a blond, but I thank her for creating Lynley and Havers...I’m a huge fan of the BBC series, and have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and at no profit to myself. I promise to return them unharmed, but hopefully very satisfied... I hope you enjoy!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tommy arrived at The Wolseley fifteen minutes early and went directly to the bar, knowing his sister well enough to be sure she would not arrive for at least twenty minutes. Judith had many excellent traits, but punctuality was not one of them.

He scanned the crowded bar, looking for an empty seat, when he was stopped in his tracks. Barbara? Sure enough, it was his sergeant, although Lynley was sure he had never seen her so dressed up. A dark green dress, fitted to the waist, then a full skirt to the knee, hair in loose waves around her shoulders…she looked beautiful, he thought.

Someone else thought so too, apparently. Lynley watched for a moment as the man seated at the bar next to her leaned in and said something. Barbara’s body language could not have been more clear: she shook her head at the stranger, one hand up as if to fend him off.

Tommy moved up behind her and whispered in her ear “I seem to be making a habit of rescuing you from admirers in bars these days.”

She turned quickly, shocked to hear that familiar velvety voice in her ear at that moment. “Tommy!” Her expression was one of pleased surprise, and then her face fell as she realized she had called him by his given name. “Sir, what are you doing here…Judith!”

“We’re off the clock, Barbara. I much prefer it when you call me Tommy. And yes, Judith – I suspect she intentionally neglected to mention who was on tonight’s guest list.”

“I’ll kill her! First she makes me get all dressed up and meet her at a posh restaurant right by the Ritz, all full of fancy columns and arches and what have you, and then she doesn’t even –“ The only thing that stemmed her flow was a waiter walking up to them.

“Excuse me madam, sir; your table is ready,” he said, leading them across the intricately tiled black and cream floor to a staircase leading upward. They ended up in a private space* overlooking the restaurant, a golden glow from the lights below flooding in the incredible arched windows surrounding the room.

“As if it wasn’t already posh enough,” Barbara muttered under her breath. The waiter poured their water and left them with menus before leaving discretely. She eyed the menu warily. Probably won’t be anything on here I can pronounce, let alone eat, she thought.

“Well, then, where’s your sister?”

Tommy looked up from his menu. “Judith has never once in her entire life been on time for anything! By the way, Barbara, you look beau –“

“Tommy! Barbara! I’m so glad you’re here!” Judith had arrived, bursting into the room with her usual level of energy. “David’s dealing with the car. I can’t wait for you both to meet him. You look lovely tonight, Barbara! Doesn’t she look gorgeous, Tommy?”

“Yes, she –“

“Oh, David, good, you’re finally here!” Judith exclaimed. As they turned toward the entry, Tommy and Barbara glanced at each other, amused by Judith. _Your sister is something else, her eyes said._ Tommy shrugged. _Not my fault, his gaze insisted._

The man entering the room had warm brown eyes that crinkled wonderfully at the corners, light brown hair threaded with grey, receding slightly at the hairline, and a wide, friendly smile.

“This is my very good friend, Barbara Havers,” Judith said. “And my brother, Tommy. This is my David, David Marsden. Isn’t he marvelous?”

“I’m very glad to meet you,” Barbara laughed, and then looked pointedly at Judith. “I wish I could say I’d heard a lot about you!”

“I’m afraid I’m in the same boat as Barbara,” Tommy confessed as he shook David’s hand. “But I’m pleased to meet you. Judith hasn’t said anything about you, but now we have a chance to get to know you.”

“It sounds as though I have the advantage then, since I have heard quite a bit about both of you,” David said, laughing.

“Yes, yes, yes, but first some champagne, because this deserves a bit of bubbly to celebrate new relationships, and old ones, of course. Tommy, get some of that Pol Roger I like, will you,” Judith directed.

Judith fidgeted and fussed until the first of the wine was poured and food had been ordered. Barbara was tremendously relieved when she studied the menu, because at least some of it was perfectly understandable and recognizable. Thank god for lamb with mint relish, she thought. That was something she could wrap her head around.

Once she realized that the champagne, while not her usual pint of beer, was delicious, and that the menu was not so intimidating after all, Barbara found herself able to relax and simply enjoy the evening. David proved to be smart and funny and obviously very much in love with Judith.

Barbara could tell Tommy – Lynley, Sir, not Tommy, anything but Tommy, for god’s sake! – liked him, and was glad for Judith’s sake. The spark in Judith’s eyes as she told the story of the night they first met at a fundraiser made Barbara very glad for her friend, but also perhaps a bit envious. To love, and be loved back, was something she would never have. Something must have shown on her face, because Tommy looked at her, eyebrows raised, asking the unspoken question ‘Are you okay?’ She shook her head at him, and smiled, pushing the unhappy thought out of her head.

All through the main course, David’s hilarious descriptions of growing up in Wapping “before the East End got so bloody trendy,” as he put it, put Barbara at ease enough to share some of her stories from her younger days in Acton. Judith, for her part took great delight in telling tales of her brother’s difficulties with authority figures at Eton.

“So it took them a week and a half to get the food coloring out of the headmaster’s wife’s cat, and Tommy had detention for the rest of the term,” Judith said, as Tommy shook his head at her, and the other two laughed until they were nearly in tears.

“Careful,” Tommy warned as he speared a piece of Barbara’s lamb from her plate. “I you keep this up, I might have to tell the story about the time the zipper broke on your dress at that ball and everything spilled – “

“And I think that is my cue to excuse myself to powder my nose,” Judith said, shaking her finger at her brother. “No such stories while I’m out of the room!”

“I hope you know how much I care for your sister,” David told Tommy once she had left. “I realize I don’t share her background, and I’m not nearly good enough for her, but I do love her very much.”

“I couldn’t care less about your background,” Tommy assured him. “It’s clear to me that you make her happy, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.”

“Thank you, that means a lot to me,” David replied. “I think I knew when I met her that there was something pretty special happening between us. Was it like that for the two of you as well?”

Barbara’s eyes grew enormously wide, and she and Tommy both looked equally stunned by the question. An excruciatingly long silence followed. Barbara spoke first.

“Er…I think you’ve misunderstood. We are work partners, just work partners, nothing more,” she explained, cheeks flaming red and voice quavering just a bit. “We’re not…life partners or anything like that.”

David looked mortified. “I am so sorry, I thought, well something Judith said, and then how you are together, I just assumed…I am so sorry!”

Tommy took pity on him. “It’s perfectly understandable. Barbara and I are friends and have worked together so long, I think we have a kind of mental shorthand that we use with each other. And my sister says all manner of things that would be easy to misinterpret.”

The tension in the room was still fairly painful, with equal shares of awkwardness all round. They were spared from trying to make further conversation when David’s mobile went off, and he glanced at the screen.

“Sorry, I’ve just had a text from Judith asking me to meet her downstairs. I’ll be right back, I imagine.”

As soon as David had gone, Barbara put her forehead down on the table and moaned. “Oh God, could that have been any more embarrassing?”

Tommy felt a bit peeved by her reaction. “C’mon, Barbara, it’s not that bad! Is the idea of a romantic relationship with me so awful you can’t even bear the thought of someone accidentally assuming we’re a couple?”

Barbara opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by the return of their waiter, who apologized and held out a note to Tommy before clearing the remains of the meal still on the table. Tommy read the note, then handed it to Barbara without a word.

_Dearest Tommy and Barbara,_

_Don’t blame David for our quick exit, for he had no idea I planned it this way from the start. When I met David, it made me realize how important it is to have love in your life. I’ve spent years watching you two circle around each other without ever admitting what you truly feel. Tonight it’s time to start being honest with each other._

_I’ve ordered your favorite desserts, plus coffee and after dinner drinks for just the two of you. The bill’s been taken care of already. Consider it your first date. You can thank me later._

_~ J_

_P.S. Tommy, do be a gentleman and see Barbara home, won’t you?_

“When you find her bludgeoned body, you can just come directly to my flat, and arrest me, sir, because I am going to kill her with my bare hands the next time I see her,” Barbara swore.

“Get in line, sergeant,” Tommy said. “You can testify on my behalf at the trial, tell the judge about the extenuating circumstances.”

Barbara began to hunt for her bag. “I’m leaving, I’ve got to get out of here – “

Lynley grabbed her arm. “Barbara, wait, please, calm down. Just stop for a minute and – “

The waiter returned, bearing a full tray of coffee and other good things. The warm, sweet, comforting scent of sticky toffee pudding had Barbara back in her seat once again. Perhaps she could drown her sorrows in her favorite dessert before storming off…”I’ll just eat the pudding before I go,” she conceded.

Tommy smiled when he saw the effect the gooey favourite had on her. “I’ll trade you a bite of my treacle tart for a spoonful of yours,” he offered.

“Fair enough,” she said, tucking into his tart immediately. He grinned, digging his spoon into her pudding. “Not too big a helping, now! What’s this?” she asked, waving her spoon at the drink in front of her.

“Tawny port,” he explained. “Delicious, you’ll like it. It’s a bit like sticky toffee pudding in liquid form.”

Barbara took a tentative sip. Tommy – Lynley, damn it! – was right about the port. It went down a treat, warming her from the inside, spreading a sense of well-being all the way down to her toes. “I could get used to that,” she admitted.

Tommy laughed. “See, posh isn’t all bad, is it? Seriously though, Barbara, you mustn’t let Judith’s heavy-handed interference spoil your evening. We had a lovely dinner, a lot of laughs…it was really nice listening to you tell those funny stories about your childhood. I’d only ever heard about the unpleasant things before.”

“And I certainly never knew you were such a bad, bad boy at school,” she said, shaking her head in pretend dismay.

She looked up at him, and he was struck once again by how lovely her eyes were, shimmering in the candlelight. He had admired her complexion and high cheekbones before, but it was always those amazing green eyes that made him catch his breath. Perhaps his sister wasn’t such an idiot after all.

He poured her more port from the bottle the waiter had left on the table, and asked her what she thought of David. She stared at him and considered her answer carefully. “I thought he was intelligent and funny. I think he can match her for personality, which is something your sister needs, or she would get bored very quickly. What do you think? What will your mother think of his East End pedigree?”

“Mother wants us all to be happy, I think, and if David makes Judith happy, then she will be fine with it. She’s quite the romantic at heart, you know. As for me, well, Judith knows what she wants, and if David is it, so be it.”

“I think she is very lucky to have someone in her life who will look at her the way he did tonight. That’s what every woman wants.”

Tommy’s chest constricted as he listened to what she was saying. He was so tempted, so very, very tempted, to say something to her about his feelings, to tell her, finally, that he loved her and that she was the most precious thing to him…

“Is that what you want, Barbara?” he asked, his voice low and soft.

She looked down at her glass and made an odd little fidgeting motion as if wrestling with some internal dilemma. “Time to head off home, I think. After all, it is a work night. The boss might yell at me if I’m late tomorrow.”

Lynley sighed deeply. “All right, I’ll see you home then.”

“I’ll get a cab –“

“I’ll take you home, Barbara,” he said, in a tone that dared her to argue with him. She nodded, too tired and emotionally strung out to push the issue.

The drive to Barbara’s flat was mostly quiet, with only the occasional comment on the night’s meal, the traffic, the weather; nothing at all or anything at all. Anything safe. Lynley pulled into the curb outside her apartment and parked the Bristol.

“I’ll see you to your door,” he told her, switching off the engine.

“Sir, you don’t need to do that,” she protested, but he was already out of the car, and opening her door. She sighed, and let him escort her across the street and up her front steps. On the top step, she turned to face him, on a level with him for once, because he was a step below her. “Thanks for the lift home.”

“A gentleman always escorts his date home,” Tommy said, and in that instant decided life was short and it was time to take action. He leaned in, reaching his arm around her waist, touching his lips to hers softly at first, then deepening the kiss when she didn’t immediately pull away. He could taste the port and dessert on her lips, so sweet, and then her mouth opened slightly, inviting him in.

Barbara’s body softened in his arms, melting into him, and for a second he wondered if she could feel his arousal pressing against her, but then she wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers in his hair, and he stopped caring if she knew how incredibly turned on he was. Their kiss grew ever more passionate, but then, abruptly, she pulled her mouth away from his.

“No, wait, stop,” she pleaded, “This is a mistake, this shouldn’t be happening; you’ll regret this!”

He held onto her tightly, refusing to let go. “There’s no mistake, Barbara, how could this be a mistake? I want – “

“No, don’t say another word!” She wrestled to free herself from his grasp, but when he wouldn’t let go, she leaned her forehead into his and sighed. He froze, for he could feel her entire body quivering. Fight or flight, he thought, what will she do? They stood there, suspended in time, whether for seconds or eons, he couldn’t say. Finally, she lifted her head from his. Her hands slipped down to his chest, and pushed him away.

“Tomorrow, at the office, we will go on as we always have,” she said, her voice low and thick with emotion. “This never happened!” She turned, unlocked the door, and went into the flat, slamming the door in his face behind her.

“Fuck!” Tommy yelled, venting his frustration. He sat down heavily on the steps, breath steaming as fumed and cursed, running his fingers through his hair. He stayed there until the cold concrete seeped through his coat, chilling him to the bone, before he at long last drove off into the night.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

*Many thanks to the wonderful [Cats070911](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/5600110/Cats070911) for the suggestion of the private dining room at The Wolseley – and, of course, her many wonderful Lynley/Havers stories!

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Shifting Perceptions – Chapter 7

 

I've never read the Elizabeth George novels, and can't imagine Tommy as a blond, but I thank her for creating Lynley and Havers...I’m a huge fan of the BBC series, and have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and at no profit to myself. I promise to return them unharmed, but hopefully very satisfied... I hope you enjoy!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

Barbara Havers woke with a start, sitting straight up in bed, breathing heavily. She sat there, disoriented for a moment, and then the previous night’s events came flooding back into her brain. She buried her face in her hands and flopped over on the bed. That kiss. That mind-bending, toe-curling, completely amazing kiss. How on earth was she ever going to forget it?

She laid there for a moment, reliving the kiss in her mind. The scent of Tommy – Lynley – damn the man, anyway! The feel of his body against hers. The way the warmth had started at her lips, then spread throughout her body, pooling in her core, almost the same way the port she’d had after their dinner had done. Sweet and intoxicating and addictive. Damn his sister as well, sticking her poncy nose in where it didn’t belong!

They were good the way they were, she thought. It was comfortable between them. They were friends, they worked well together. He was her friend, her partner, her…it was safe, the way it was. Or at least, the way it used to be. There had always been definite border lines in place. There were rules. Last night he had not only crossed the boundaries, he had stormed her personal barricades.

She stood under the shower, water streaming over her, as hot as she could stand, trying to wash away – everything. It would be all right, she told herself, over and over. She would forget; they would concentrate on the job, and everything would go back to normal, it would be the way it was before. She stayed in the shower twice as long as she usually did, convincing herself, rebuilding those defenses. Brick by brick.

The reconstruction continued on her drive into work, on her walk into the building. She kept her head down, eyes glued to the computer screen. When Lynley walked in, he nodded curtly to Nkata and McConnell, then disappeared into his office, closing the door with a bit more force than was strictly necessary.

Winston Nkata raised his eyebrows. When had DI Lynley ever walked into the office without acknowledging Barbara Havers? An hour and a half later, when Lynley still had not come out of his office and Barbara’s head was still buried in the messy pile at her desk, Winnie carried a cup of tea over to her, handing it over as a peace offering, determined to get to the bottom of the problem was between them.

“What’s up with you and the DI this morning, Barb? Did you have a row?” he asked. She immediately went on the defensive.

“Don’t be daft! If his highness is in a snit, it’s nothing to do with me,” Havers insisted. “Haven’t you found anything on those tapes yet?”

Winston shook his head. “It’s as though all the cameras are laughing at us,” he admitted. “They show nothing, absolutely bloody nothing!”

Barbara tilted her head, thinking. “What about the cars, Winnie? All those cars, parked around the perimeter of the park, visible on the videos…what if we run the number plates against the list from the theatre group, the ex-boyfriend, the lot of them, see if there’s a match?”

Nkata nodded. “It’s worth a try. Maybe someone drove her from the pub, and then things got nasty…I’ll get on it. Have you got any leads?”

“Not exactly,” she said slowly. “But I keep going over these photos she posted. There’s something I’m missing, I just don’t know what it is.”

Winston patted her on the shoulder, his dark brown eyes reassuring. “We’ll get him, Barb, we’ll figure it out.” Barbara nodded, thankful for his support on the case, and glad he had dropped his questioning about the DI.

“Sergeant!” Lynley’s voice, clipped and curt, made her jump. Speak of the devil, she thought. “I just heard from Cook. He’s found the ex-boyfriend, they’ve brought him in and they’re prepping him now. Interview room 5. Well, don’t just sit there, Havers, let’s go!”

Barbara’s nerve endings grated at his order, barked out at her as though she were some raw recruit rather than his long-term partner. She grabbed her notebook and took off after him, struggling to keep up with his long legs. Perhaps things wouldn’t be _exactly_ as they were before it all turned to shit, she thought.

The two detectives stood in front of the interview room’s one-way mirror, observing the suspect, Steven Moore. The man was obviously not having a good day. Blood-shot eyes, at least three days worth of stubble on his face. Haggard, miserable expression. According to his records, the man was 25, but he easily could pass for ten, or even fifteen, years older. Without saying a word to her, Lynley walked to the door, leaving Barbara to follow in his wake.

Lynley sat across from Moore, staring at him, arms crossed, completely silent. Havers took the seat next to the DI, tapped her pen on the desk in front of them for a moment, and then leaned in.

“I understand you’ve been on a bit of bender. You’ve haven’t been to work in days. The arresting officer told us you were high as a kite when they found you at that flophouse. What’s going on with you anyway, Stevie boy? Anything you’d like to share with us?”

“I’m not really in a sharing kind of mood, am I? What’s this about then, anyway? Drag me in here because I tied one on and didn’t show up for work? Don’t think so.” Surly, defensive, even his voice sounded far older than his years.

“Seen Lisa lately, Stevie?” Havers asked, her pen still tapping on the table, signaling her impatience. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“That bitch! What’s she gone and said I’ve done now? Stupid cow!” Moore had been tilting back in his chair, but at the sound of Lisa’s name he leaned forward, yelling his response to the question.

Lynley finally reacted, jumping up, hands on the table, leaning in so his face was only centimetres from the suspect’s, his whole body conveying his anger and an implied threat without ever touching the man. “She’s dead! Beaten to death, in fact, on Tuesday night. Now, answer my sergeant’s question!”

Moore fell backward in his seat. His face turned white and all of the sudden the man looked his true age, young and scared. “Dead? Oh, my god…I swear, I never touched her, haven’t seen her in months…Christ, I can’t believe she’s dead!”

“So the restraining order was just a misunderstanding, was it? Where were you on Tuesday?” Havers’ pen was no longer tapping on the table.

“I was at the pub with me mates, as usual, you can check, they’ll tell you. We made a night of it, were there ‘til last call. Then the next day, I was sleeping it off, you know, and I missed work. Called a friend, he set me up with some black pearl, and that’s the last I remember ‘til this all-expenses paid trip ‘ere!”

“That must have been quite the heroin binge you were on.” Steven Moore stared at the floor. No reaction.

Lynley shook his head in disgust and pushed away from the table, circling the room as he kneaded at the tension in his neck with his hand. The air in the interview room nearly crackled from all his energy, and Moore looked a bit worried that Tommy would attack him.

“Get the name of the pub, these supposed friends, the drug dealer, his fingerprints, and then put him in the tank and hold him until he sobers up while we check his story,” he ordered Barbara, and left the room without waiting for her response.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Back in his office, Lynley sat at his desk, fists clenched, his eyes staring at a piece of paper in front of him without actually seeing the words at all. He was seething, furious with his sister, with himself, with Barbara. With the whole situation. She was his touchstone, the one person he could always rely upon; she was what kept him anchored in reality. Now that was gone and he was adrift, lost, foundering at the bottom of a very deep hole indeed.

He knew the danger well, could feel the darkness pulling at him, the magnets of drink and despair, for he had surrendered to their pull after Helen’s death. Barbara had been the one thing that had reached him then, so where did that leave him now? He couldn’t keep lashing out at her as he had done this morning, he knew that much. He would have to find a way to work together with her, in spite of his wounded heart…and, if he were honest with himself, his injured pride.

His phone rang. Judith, of course. He pushed the phone away, then changed his mind; he would have to speak to her eventually. “Lynley,” he answered, his voice gruff, determined not give his sister an easy time of it.

“Oh, Tommy,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry to bother you at work…it’s Mother…”

“What’s happened?”

“I don’t know, I got a call, I’m not there yet so I don’t – “

“Judith, who called? What did they say?” He was calm, controlled, very much the police officer trying to calm the witness enough to get some information.

“It was John, John Penellin. He said he found her on the floor in the morning room, unconscious. He called an ambulance. They’ve taken her to hospital. That’s all I know.”

“It will take me a few minutes here to arrange things, and then I’ll be on my way. Don’t leave until you feel you are able, Judith. I don’t think you should drive just yet. Call Peter, let him know what is going on, pack a bag, take your time. I’ll see you there, and we’ll find out what’s happened. It will be all right.”

The next twenty minutes were a blur for Tommy, arranging for his departure, notifying the team members currently in the office. One final thing he had to do – tell Barbara. She wasn’t at her desk, so he went in search of her. Luckily she wasn’t far; he found her in the break room, making a cup of tea. When he walked in, her back was to him.

“Barbara?” He could see her back stiffen up, and she froze briefly before turning to face him, her expression tense and wary. For a moment, Tommy thought she would bolt on him.

“Judith called; my mother’s in the hospital,” he told her. Her face changed, now full of sympathy and concern. She started to say something, but he put up a hand, stopping her. “I don’t know what the problem is yet, and I’ve no idea how long I’ll be gone. I’ve spoken to Hillier. You’ll take over as acting DI on the case, keep him apprised of the situation – “

“Acting DI? Sir, I can’t do – “

“You can and you will. You’ll be fine. You know the case, the team knows you; it was the best option under the circumstances.” He decided to risk touching her, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder. “There’s no one I’d trust more, Barbara. You can do this. Feel free to call or text me on my mobile if I can help, or if you just need to talk.”

She nodded mutely, unable to think of a single damn thing to say that would make sense or make a difference. He squeezed her shoulder one more time, then turned on his heel and left. Within minutes, he had gathered his things and was behind the wheel of the Bristol. He put the car in gear, pulled out into London traffic and drove away from New Scotland Yard.


	8. Chapter 8

Shifting Perceptions – Chapter 8

 

I've never read the Elizabeth George novels, and can't imagine Tommy as a blond, but I thank her for creating Lynley and Havers...I’m a huge fan of the BBC series, and have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and at no profit to myself. I promise to return them unharmed, but hopefully very satisfied... I hope you enjoy!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

When Lynley left for Cornwall, rushing to the hospital where his mother had been taken after her collapse, Barbara Havers spent the next ten minutes in a state of shock, heart pounding, mind whirling. Her brain went from worrying about Lady Asherton to concern for her partner and how he would handle the situation, and from there into a full-blown panic over being made acting DI over the Lisa Ramsey murder investigation and back again.

Pulling herself together, she called the team together in the main office area for an update. She could sense the mood was a little uncertain amongst them, understandably so, with Lynley gone and she herself untested, trying to fill his role. Time to give them back some confidence, she thought. Not to mention her own self-confidence.

“What’s happening with those number plates off the CCTV, Winnie?” she asked.

“I’m on it, but it’s slow going to be honest with you,” he confessed. “It’s night-time, there are a lot of cars parked around the area, and lots of them we can only see part of the number plate, so just getting the information from the tapes takes heaps of time. No matches with any of the people on the list you gave me yet.”

“Admit it, you love these glamorous assignments! Keep at it, then; you never know, I think it could turn up some valuable info for us.”

Barbara turned to Cook next. “Well done, you, finding Steven Moore and bringing him in for questioning. After talking to him, I honestly don’t know if he did it or not. At least we’ve got him stashed here for the time being, given the state he was in when you brought him in. We’ll have to follow up on what he told us, see if his story checks out while we wait to see if his fingerprints rule him in or out. That’ll be up to you and McConnell.” They nodded, and she brought them up to speed on the story Moore had spun in the interview room that morning.

“Meanwhile, I’ll be looking into the background of the theatre company members who were with Lisa at the pub the night she died, see if anything pops up there. Anything else? Right then, regular reports from all of you, please. I want to be able to call the DI as soon as we solve this thing so he can stop worrying about this and concentrate on his mum, yeah?”

After they had all set off to carry out their orders, Nkata came by Havers’ desk and touched her on the shoulder. “You did really well, Barb, I’m proud of you. Everyone is behind you 110 percent. We’ll find whoever did this, I know we will.”

“God, Win, I hope so. I don’t think I could face calling Lynley and telling him I failed.”

“”You won’t have to. Just keep on like you’ve started, and we’ll have the murderer behind bars in no time!”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Thomas Lynley paced the hall outside his mother’s room at the hospital for the hundredth time, unable to face sitting after spending hours in the Bristol on the drive from London. He had been the first to arrive, followed an hour or so later by Judith, who sat watching him from inside Dorothy’s room, her face ashen with worry. Peter was still in transit.

Tommy hated the whole hospital vigil routine; he always had. It always made him feel like a caged animal, and this time was no exception. The staff who wouldn’t tell you anything, the ghastly scent of institutional antiseptic cleaners, the revolting colours the places were always painted – it was as if the whole experience was designed to drive you mad, he thought.

He forced himself not to look at his watch yet again, and, harder still, restrained himself from ringing Barbara. He couldn’t use her as a security blanket. She would be fine without him, he knew; she was more than up to handling the job. Whether or not the reverse was true, he wasn’t so sure.

The doctor arrived and began to speak to Tommy and Judith just as Peter arrived. Tommy nodded to Peter and did the introductions. “My brother, Peter Lynley. Peter, this is Dr. Simmons. She was just about to give us the latest on mother’s condition.”

“Your mother regained consciousness not long after the ambulance service brought her here. She became somewhat agitated, so we’ve had her under a light sedative since then, just to keep her calm. We’re still trying to work out exactly why she fainted. She’s slightly anemic, we’re now treating her for that.”

“She was a bit dehydrated when she was brought in, and we’ve got her on IV fluids. Her blood pressure is also quite low. Any of these things alone could have caused the fainting, so put together, at her age, it’s not surprising that she lost consciousness. We want to do some more tests, check her heart health, etc.”

“What does this mean, long-term, for her health? Will she be all right?” Tommy asked.

“I don’t think you have anything too serious to worry about, but she’ll be here for a while. We need to monitor her, figure out exactly what’s happening. Then we can put together a treatment plan. That’s all I can tell you at the moment, but we will keep you updated, of course. Try to get some rest. She’ll sleep for quite a while. All of you look done in.”

When the doctor left, Judith let out a huge sigh of relief, and enveloped Peter in a hug. “Well, it sounds as though it isn’t so very bad after all. I thought the worst when I first saw her, lying there, so very pale and frail looking on that hospital bed! Hullo, Peter, dear. Safe travels?”

Peter nodded, giving his sister a half smile. “Fine, thanks. I’ll just go in and see her.”

“When he’s seen her, you should take him and get something to eat, something other than hospital cafeteria food. I’ll stay in case she wakes, and then when you get back, we can work out shifts. I don’t want her waking without any of us here,” Tommy said to his sister.

Judith was tempted to argue with him. He looked exhausted, and she wanted him to go have something to eat with Peter, but she knew there was no point in trying to convince him otherwise. She also wanted to ask about Barbara, but had a feeling now was not the time.

“All right, then. We’ll bring you back something to eat.”

Once they were gone, Tommy settled into the chair next to his mother’s bedside, outwardly calm, but his mind was in a turmoil. His mother. Barbara. Howenstowe. The Lisa Ramsey case. His job. His life – or lack thereof, given that his existence consisted of his job and Barbara, and now he had well and truly hosed his relationship with her up…damn it all to hell, anyway.

He finally drifted off into an uncomfortable, agitated sleep, dozing fitfully in the hospital room chair for an hour or so until his mobile vibrated in his pocket, rousing him. He went into the hallway to answer it.

“Lynley.”

“Sir, how is she? I’m sorry to bother you. I just hadn’t heard anything…”

Barbara, of course, and how ridiculous that he felt better just from hearing her voice, even though it was miles away, on the other end of a telephone line. Pathetic, Tommy, he told himself. Completely pathetic.

“They’ve got her under sedation. She’s anemic, dehydrated, who knows what else, but they don’t seem to think it’s anything too serious. They’re running tests, not promising anything. The way they always do.”

She nodded her head in sympathy, even though he couldn’t see her. “It’ll be all right, then, if they think it’s not too serious. She’s a tough lady. She’ll come through, sir, I know she will.”

Her voice was soothing to him, comforting, like a hot drink on a frigid winter’s day. “Thank you, Barbara. How are things with the case? Is Hillier being a pain?”

“He hasn’t been too bad, actually. Wants regular updates, but of course he would, wouldn’t he? I met with him late this afternoon, before he left for the day. He was fairly supportive, offered me another DC if I need one. Even told me to cut myself some slack on the paperwork if I needed to, as it would be unfamiliar to me!”

Tommy laughed. “Good lord, he is getting soft in his old age, isn’t he? You’ve worn him down over the years, Barbara. Now you’ve got him eating out of the palm of your hand!”

“Oh, I don’t know about that! The team’s being really encouraging and helpful; they send their best to you and your family. We ruled out Moore today. He seemed so likely, maybe too likely. The story he told us checked out, and when they ran his prints against the ones Lafferty pulled from the body, there was no match, so it couldn’t have been him. He’s still in custody; drugs squad is pushing him to give up his dealer, so that’s something, at any rate.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Lynley admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “It did seem a little too perfect. We never get the easy cases, do we? What’s your plan moving forward?”

“Nkata’s comparing number plates from the CCTV videos of the scene with the list of anyone who might have known Lisa from the theatre, etc. I’m working on backgrounds for the theatre cast and crew, see if there are any red flags.”

“I did dig up something on Matthew Goddard’s record, but he was a juvenile, so we’ve got to wait to see if a judge will release the records to us,” she continued. “We’ll have a go at the pub staff tomorrow while we’re waiting for the judge to sign off, see if they remember anything that can help.”

“Good work, Barbara. It sounds as though you’ve got things well in hand. You and the team won’t want me back after this.”

“As if! You just take care of your mum, and yourself, and get back to us as soon as you can.”

They said their goodbyes and rang off. Lynley slipped his mobile back into his pocket, thinking wryly that he was more or less superfluous in his sergeant’s life. She obviously didn’t need him from a professional point of view, and had made it quite clear she wasn’t interested in him personally. So where did that leave him? He shook his head and returned to his mother’s bedside.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Havers hit the off button on her phone and set it aside with a heavy heart. He had sounded so tired…if Lynley had been in London, she would have been very tempted to go to him, but with him so far away, there was nothing she could do.

She began to pack up, ready to go home after a long day. It was late, and tomorrow would be another long, exhausting day. She had known, intellectually speaking, that the DI position would be more responsibility and more work, but experiencing it was – well, it made her appreciate Lynley even more.

She missed him fiercely already, and he had only been gone a few hours. Not even a full day. It wasn’t just because she longed to bounce ideas off of him, pick his brain, share lunch together, have a laugh before getting back to work. She missed his scent and the way his hand would just barely touch her back as he guided her into the car or through a doorway, ever the gentleman.

She even found herself craving the sound of his voice, for Christ’s sake. When they first met, she had hated that baritone of his, with its resonant echoes of Eton and Oxford and a background so far removed from her own, but now it was music to her ears. Barbara pushed open the exterior doors of New Scotland Yard and walked toward her car. Tomorrow was another day, and she would get through it somehow. Even without Tommy.

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Shifting Perceptions – Chapter 10

 

I've never read the Elizabeth George novels, (Tommy as a blond?) but I thank her for creating Lynley and Havers...I’m a huge fan of the BBC series, and have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and at no profit to myself. I promise to return them unharmed, but hopefully very satisfied... I hope you enjoy!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Barbara, I think I’ve got something,” Nkata announced as she walked into the office the next morning. She looked more rested, he noted. And she was wearing just a bit of makeup, hair brushed. _Amazing what a difference just a little effort makes, he thought. She even seems more confident._

“Let’s have it then, Winnie. If you’ve got a break in this case to start my day off right, lunch is on me!” She shed her jacket and dumped her bag on her desk, joining Nkata at his computer monitor.

“When I got in this morning, the CCTV footage from the pub was here waiting for me,” Nkata explained. “Good thing, too, yeah, because I don’t think my eyes are completely ruined just yet.” If he was looking for sympathy from her, he wasn’t getting it. _She hadn’t changed that much in spite of the cosmetics and new haircut; she was still their DS Havers, he thought._

“Duly noted. Time off for DC Winston Nkata next Tuesday to go and have his eyes checked.” She crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly.

“Man could go blind ‘round ‘ere before anyone would notice. At any rate, this is what I found at around the time stamp the pub staff said they remember Lisa Ramsey leaving with her unidentified friend.”

Cook and McConnell came over to see as well, and Winston pressed a button on his computer to play the video file. The footage was grainy and underexposed, not an uncommon problem with nighttime CCTV. Despite the poor quality, however, Lisa Ramsey’s face was recognizable as she stumbled out of the pub, half carried and half dragged by a man. A man wearing a hoodie, unfortunately. Head down, hood up, cinched around his face. _Of course, Barbara thought. Can’t make it too easy on us, not even just this once!_

“Well, it’s a start,” she said. “Nkata, you and McConnell get down to the area around that pub and find me any other possible CCTV footage nearby. Maybe another angle will help, especially if it shows where he was taking her, a number plate on a car, anything at all. Cook, you get this footage to the techies and see if they can’t enhance it, sharpen it, increase the contrast, do something to give us a better picture. I will go through the social media accounts for everyone in the theatre group that was there that night. Maybe somebody posted a photo that will match up to the clothing on the man in the video.”

The team set off on their tasks, and Barbara settled down at her computer, steaming mug at hand, to plow through the piles of selfies and mindless drivel generated by a group of people to whom nothing really happened unless it was fully documented on the Internet. It was a huge relief when Lynley rang.

“Hullo?”

“Ah, you must have had some caffeine already this morning,” he chuckled. “And a good night’s sleep last night. Normally you bark out ‘Havers!’ into your phone at me. Makes me feel as though I’ve done something terribly wrong and you’re going to hit me with a rolled up newspaper!”

“Tempting…I might just do that the next time you wake me early in the morning! Or force me to leave the office and go home at night,” she teased.

“It apparently worked. You sound much more rested today. What’s the latest news with the case?”

Barbara refused to rise to the bait about seeming refreshed, but told him about Nkata’s CCTV discovery and generally brought him up to date with what was happening. “I’m sorting through the photos on the web from the theatre group, trying to see if anyone posted one from that night so I can match the clothing with what’s in the video.”

“Good idea. I actually had a go at the social media stuff last night – “

“Hang on a minute, something’s just come in…results from running Matthew Goddard’s fingerprints…it’s no good.” Her voice sank a bit as she said it. “The prints don’t match. Also looks as though uniforms spoke with his girlfriend while they were there, and she corroborates his story about when he got home, etc. Rules him out completely, I’m afraid. Damn! He seemed a bit of a smarmy bastard, too!”

“If only being a smarmy bastard were illegal! As I was saying, I was having a look at the social media stuff last night, and I noticed something with the photos. That’s partly why I called.”

“By the way, you’re a fine one to be going on about my sleep habits! What were you doing up working last night?”

Tommy ignored her. “If you look through the photos posted online from the theatre group, there’s this one man who is in almost every single photo of Lisa. He’s just sort of there, in the background, like part of the wallpaper or something. And another thing: he’s the only one in these photos who isn’t tagged with his name on Facebook. It stood out to me.”

While he was speaking, Barbara went through the images again. “You’re right. I knew something about the photos was bothering me the first time I looked at them, but I couldn’t work out what it was.”

Something clicked in her brain, and she flipped through her notebook. “His name is Malcolm. That girl Susan Blake mentioned him, almost as an afterthought. Wait, wait, let me cross-reference it with the list the director gave us of all the cast and crew…here it is, Malcolm Bryce. He works behind the scenes, on the sets and things.”

“Perhaps he had a bit of a fixation on our victim. Worth looking into.”

“Definitely worth looking into. It would be just like you to solve the case while you’re in Cornwall on family leave. Thanks for your help, sir.”

“It was nothing. A few minutes computer research when I couldn’t get to sleep last night. Makes me feel useful to do something, anyway, as though I’m there with you, and we’re working on the case together,” he confessed. His voice sounded so wistful, and it cut her clean through to the bone.

She had no idea what to say, and there was an awkward pause. “What about – how’s your mother doing, sir?” She stumbled over the words in her haste to fill the silence.

“She seems much better. In fact, she’s extremely anxious to get out of there, and I think they are equally anxious to be rid of her. The doctors are waiting to see the latest blood test results, then we’ll know if she comes home today or tomorrow. We’re arranging a visiting nurse to help out when she does.”

“Good news, then. I’m glad.” Barbara meant it; she truly liked Lady Asherton, toff though she was.

“Thanks. Speak to you later?” His voice sounded unsure.

“Of course.” _As if she would refuse to speak to him. As if she could deny him anything. The kiss, she thought, you denied him that. Denied yourself, more like._

She forced her attention back where it belonged, on her computer, on the case, on the here and now, and definitely not on Tommy Lynley, a man she could never have, no matter how incredible his mouth felt on hers, or how warm his body… _Shit! How could the man be such a bloody distraction when he was miles and miles away in Cornwall?_

Cook returned to the office, waving some papers triumphantly in the air. “I hit up a mate of mine over in the tech department for some express service, and he came through for us, ma’am! The video’s heaps better now, and he printed off a couple of stills pulled from the footage. ‘Ave a look.”

He set his trophies down on Barbara’s desk, and she studied them closely. The stills were much better, amazingly good, in fact. The tech had blown things up so the male figure was all that was visible. The man’s face was still too much in shadow to be identified, but his clothing was another story. Her fingers traced the silver and blue five-pointed star on the man’s sweatshirt.

“The wonders of modern technology. Photoshop to the rescue…look at this logo on the hoodie. It’s quite distinctive, really. Distinctive enough for one of the others who was at the pub to identify, maybe?”

Cook grinned at her and nodded. “I thought so, ma’am. Certainly worth asking, yeah?”

Barbara shuffled through her papers and notes until she found the schedule the theatre director had given her, then checked her watch. “They have a rehearsal this afternoon. Lunch first, and by the time we’ve eaten they’ll all be at the theatre. Let Nkata and McConnell know what we’re up to, and tell them to find us something on the fresh CCTV footage I know they’re bringing us. If they don’t have any new video, tell them not to bother coming back to the office!”

Cook’s grin widened even further, threatening to split his face in half, as he reached for his phone. Barbara pulled one of the photos from Lisa Ramsey’s Facebook page that had Malcolm Bryce in it, and emailed it to Nkata and McConnell with an explanation.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The theatre was a hive of activity when they arrived. The cast and crew were bustling around the place, feeling the pressure because the play’s launch was just around the corner, so no one paid too much attention to the two police officers until Matthew Goddard spotted them and recognized Havers. His face fell when he realized who it was.

“Not again!” he exclaimed. “This is starting to border on police harassment, isn’t it?”

“Calm down! Your prints didn’t match, and we know your girlfriend said your story was true. We just have a few more questions.” Barbara pulled out the stills captured from the CCTV video. “Do you recognize this man?”

Goddard’s face continued to scowl, but he took the printouts she handed him and looked at them. “Well, these aren’t exactly professional headshots, are they? I can’t even see his face!” He handed the sheets back to her, but she refused to take them.

“Have another look. What about the clothes? Do you recognize that hoodie?”

Goddard looked again at the sheets. “Jeans and a hoodie? Half of London wears that on any given night. I don’t pay much attention to what other men wear, anyway.”

“Well, I guess we’d better chat with the others who were there that night, then, shouldn’t we? If you would just fetch them, please? Thanks so much,” Barbara said to him, then turned away and sat down in an adjacent row of red-velvet covered theatre seats.

For a minute, Goddard looked as if he intended to argue with her. Cook drew himself up and took a half step forward. Another glance at Barbara’s stony face, and Goddard thought better of refusing. The two police detectives watched as he walked to the stage, speaking briefly to a young woman, who then headed in their direction. Barbara remembered her from the first set of interviews with the theatre crew. Susan, Susan Blake.

“Hullo again, Susan. Sorry to disturb your rehearsal, but we have a few more questions for you.” Barbara handed over the images. “Recognize him?”

Susan’s face frowned as she studied the photograph. “It’s not the best photo, is it? I can’t say for sure, since his face is hidden, but Malcolm, who does our backdrops and scenery, he has a hoodie like that. Something to do with American football, I think he said. He’s a bit odd, Malcolm is. The only one I know who watches American football.”

“Was he wearing this the other night at the pub after rehearsals? The night Lisa Ramsey was killed?” Havers tried to keep any emotion out of her voice, but this was promising, very promising. She could taste it, feel the threads of the case starting to knit together.

Susan’s head tilted a bit and she made a face as she struggled to recall that night. “I think so, yes, maybe…but I honestly couldn’t swear to it. I’m sorry. Does this mean you think he did it?”

Barbara wasn’t sure if the young woman’s voice indicated fear, or fascination, or some of each. At any rate, they couldn’t have the girl blabbing it backstage at this point. “For now, we’re just trying to eliminate some things,” she said reassuringly. “We’ll need to speak with the others who were at the pub that night. If you would just send the next person over?”

“Is it enough?” Cook asked once Susan had walked far enough away to not hear them.

“It’s enough to bring him in, ask him some hard questions, get his prints. With any luck, we’ll get some corroborating evidence of some kind from the other CCTV tapes. Get a warrant, check his flat, his car…” Her voice trailed off as someone approached.

They made short work of the rest of the interviews. None of the others remembered as much as Susan Blake. They saved Malcolm Bryce until the end, and luckily, he was working backstage, so he had no idea they were there until they went to find him.

“Malcolm? I’m DS Havers, and this is DC Cook, with the Metropolitan Police. We have a few questions for you. Would you take a look at these photographs and tell us – “

The instant Bryce saw the images Havers was holding out in her hand he froze for a split second, and then ran for it, at top speed, toward the back of the theatre. Barbara swore, loudly. Cook set off after him, and Barbara shouted after him that she would circle round to the front of the theatre to cut their suspect off.

She was there, waiting at the entrance to the alley next to the theatre, blocking Malcolm Bryce’s escape, but in the end it was Cook who took him down. Havers had braced for impact, expecting the worst, assuming she would end up having to tackle him, but for once fate was smiling down upon her. Cook ended up with the knee torn out of his trousers, abrasions on his hands and a button missing from his jacket.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tommy Lynley was peeved. He sat nursing his whisky – he had gone for Islay tonight, the Laphroaig 25-year-old, wanting the smoky peatiness of it, nothing too smooth or tame for this evening. He leaned back into the leather chair and stared into the crackling fire before him.

Barbara had not called, and he was annoyed with himself, frustrated for caring, irritated that he could not seem to bring himself to just pick up the phone and call her…he had picked up the phone several times, and put it back down again without dialing.

Judith walked into the lounge and threw herself in a chair. “You look the way I feel,” she told her brother.

“Is her highness finally settled in now?” Tommy asked, laughing just a little bit. Judith nodded.

“God, she’s been a nightmare! I know she’s just compensating for the whole thing now she’s back at home, ordering us around to show she’s in charge, handling things, completely in control, but I could have murdered her today. At least it would have been an easy enough case for you to solve!”

“I don’t know about that. We have three good suspects right here in the house! Speaking of which, where is Peter?”

“Still up there. I escaped, left him to it. He’s the youngest, he can take it for a little while longer.” She looked over at Tommy. “What about you? Heard from Barbara?”

He shot her a stony glance, then stared back down into the bottom of his glass. “Leave it, Judith,” he warned.

She opened her mouth, about to say something, then changed her mind. She walked over to the bar and poured herself a drink, then grabbed the television remote and switched on the news. They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their drinks, the drone of the news in the background.

“Tommy…isn’t that Barbara?”

He looked up, focused on the television, and sure enough, there she was. Barbara Havers, talking to the press as though she had been born doing it. Then video of her, along with Cook, hustling Malcolm Bryce into New Scotland Yard through a throng of media, flashes going off, and microphones being thrust into her face…Hillier introducing her at the press conference as the investigating officer, then Barbara briefing them all on the case, answering questions…amazing.

“She’s doing well, isn’t she?” Judith asked.

“Incredibly well,” Tommy replied, hoping his voice would not betray all the emotion he was feeling. He was proud of her, excited for her, and terribly, terribly afraid this would mean she would leave him. A promotion was due to her, surely, and then what? They would no longer work together, and now he had ruined their personal relationship, so he would lose her completely. He forced himself not to drain his glass.

The news report ended, and Judith clicked the television off. She refilled her glass, then turned to face him. “I’ll leave you to it. You’ll want to call her.”

Tommy nodded a curt acknowledgement to his sister, and then picked up his phone and dialed as she walked out of the room.

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Shifting Perceptions – Chapter 10

I've never read the Elizabeth George novels, (Tommy as a blond?) but I thank her for creating Lynley and Havers...I’m a huge fan of the BBC series, and have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and at no profit to myself. I promise to return them unharmed, but hopefully very satisfied... I hope you enjoy!

 Many thanks to all those of you who have left kudos, encouraging me to continue!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Barbara, I think I’ve got something,” Nkata announced as she walked into the office the next morning. She looked more rested, he noted. And she was wearing just a bit of makeup, hair brushed. _Amazing what a difference just a little effort makes, he thought. She even seems more confident._

“Let’s have it then, Winnie. If you’ve got a break in this case to start my day off right, lunch is on me!” She shed her jacket and dumped her bag on her desk, joining Nkata at his computer monitor.

“When I got in this morning, the CCTV footage from the pub was here waiting for me,” Nkata explained. “Good thing, too, yeah, because I don’t think my eyes are completely ruined just yet.” If he was looking for sympathy from her, he wasn’t getting it. _She hadn’t changed that much in spite of the cosmetics and new haircut; she was still their DS Havers, he thought._

“Duly noted. Time off for DC Winston Nkata next Tuesday to go and have his eyes checked.” She crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly.

“Man could go blind ‘round ‘ere before anyone would notice. At any rate, this is what I found at around the time stamp the pub staff said they remember Lisa Ramsey leaving with her unidentified friend.”

Cook and McConnell came over to see as well, and Winston pressed a button on his computer to play the video file. The footage was grainy and underexposed, not an uncommon problem with nighttime CCTV. Despite the poor quality, however, Lisa Ramsey’s face was recognizable as she stumbled out of the pub, half carried and half dragged by a man. A man wearing a hoodie, unfortunately. Head down, hood up, cinched around his face. _Of course, Barbara thought. Can’t make it too easy on us, not even just this once!_

“Well, it’s a start,” she said. “Nkata, you and McConnell get down to the area around that pub and find me any other possible CCTV footage nearby. Maybe another angle will help, especially if it shows where he was taking her, a number plate on a car, anything at all. Cook, you get this footage to the techies and see if they can’t enhance it, sharpen it, increase the contrast, do something to give us a better picture. I will go through the social media accounts for everyone in the theatre group that was there that night. Maybe somebody posted a photo that will match up to the clothing on the man in the video.”

The team set off on their tasks, and Barbara settled down at her computer, steaming mug at hand, to plow through the piles of selfies and mindless drivel generated by a group of people to whom nothing really happened unless it was fully documented on the Internet. It was a huge relief when Lynley rang.

“Hullo?”

“Ah, you must have had some caffeine already this morning,” he chuckled. “And a good night’s sleep last night. Normally you bark out ‘Havers!’ into your phone at me. Makes me feel as though I’ve done something terribly wrong and you’re going to hit me with a rolled up newspaper!”

“Tempting…I might just do that the next time you wake me early in the morning! Or force me to leave the office and go home at night,” she teased.

“It apparently worked. You sound much more rested today. What’s the latest news with the case?”

Barbara refused to rise to the bait about seeming refreshed, but told him about Nkata’s CCTV discovery and generally brought him up to date with what was happening. “I’m sorting through the photos on the web from the theatre group, trying to see if anyone posted one from that night so I can match the clothing with what’s in the video.”

“Good idea. I actually had a go at the social media stuff last night – “

“Hang on a minute, something’s just come in…results from running Matthew Goddard’s fingerprints…it’s no good.” Her voice sank a bit as she said it. “The prints don’t match. Also looks as though uniforms spoke with his girlfriend while they were there, and she corroborates his story about when he got home, etc. Rules him out completely, I’m afraid. Damn! He seemed a bit of a smarmy bastard, too!”

“If only being a smarmy bastard were illegal! As I was saying, I was having a look at the social media stuff last night, and I noticed something with the photos. That’s partly why I called.”

“By the way, you’re a fine one to be going on about my sleep habits! What were you doing up working last night?”

Tommy ignored her. “If you look through the photos posted online from the theatre group, there’s this one man who is in almost every single photo of Lisa. He’s just sort of there, in the background, like part of the wallpaper or something. And another thing: he’s the only one in these photos who isn’t tagged with his name on Facebook. It stood out to me.”

While he was speaking, Barbara went through the images again. “You’re right. I knew something about the photos was bothering me the first time I looked at them, but I couldn’t work out what it was.”

Something clicked in her brain, and she flipped through her notebook. “His name is Malcolm. That girl Susan Blake mentioned him, almost as an afterthought. Wait, wait, let me cross-reference it with the list the director gave us of all the cast and crew…here it is, Malcolm Bryce. He works behind the scenes, on the sets and things.”

“Perhaps he had a bit of a fixation on our victim. Worth looking into.”

“Definitely worth looking into. It would be just like you to solve the case while you’re in Cornwall on family leave. Thanks for your help, sir.”

“It was nothing. A few minutes computer research when I couldn’t get to sleep last night. Makes me feel useful to do something, anyway, as though I’m there with you, and we’re working on the case together,” he confessed. His voice sounded so wistful, and it cut her clean through to the bone.

She had no idea what to say, and there was an awkward pause. “What about – how’s your mother doing, sir?” She stumbled over the words in her haste to fill the silence.

“She seems much better. In fact, she’s extremely anxious to get out of there, and I think they are equally anxious to be rid of her. The doctors are waiting to see the latest blood test results, then we’ll know if she comes home today or tomorrow. We’re arranging a visiting nurse to help out when she does.”

“Good news, then. I’m glad.” Barbara meant it; she truly liked Lady Asherton, toff though she was.

“Thanks. Speak to you later?” His voice sounded unsure.

“Of course.” _As if she would refuse to speak to him. As if she could deny him anything. The kiss, she thought, you denied him that. Denied yourself, more like._

She forced her attention back where it belonged, on her computer, on the case, on the here and now, and definitely not on Tommy Lynley, a man she could never have, no matter how incredible his mouth felt on hers, or how warm his body… _Shit! How could the man be such a bloody distraction when he was miles and miles away in Cornwall?_

Cook returned to the office, waving some papers triumphantly in the air. “I hit up a mate of mine over in the tech department for some express service, and he came through for us, ma’am! The video’s heaps better now, and he printed off a couple of stills pulled from the footage. ‘Ave a look.”

He set his trophies down on Barbara’s desk, and she studied them closely. The stills were much better, amazingly good, in fact. The tech had blown things up so the male figure was all that was visible. The man’s face was still too much in shadow to be identified, but his clothing was another story. Her fingers traced the silver and blue five-pointed star on the man’s sweatshirt.

“The wonders of modern technology. Photoshop to the rescue…look at this logo on the hoodie. It’s quite distinctive, really. Distinctive enough for one of the others who was at the pub to identify, maybe?”

Cook grinned at her and nodded. “I thought so, ma’am. Certainly worth asking, yeah?”

Barbara shuffled through her papers and notes until she found the schedule the theatre director had given her, then checked her watch. “They have a rehearsal this afternoon. Lunch first, and by the time we’ve eaten they’ll all be at the theatre. Let Nkata and McConnell know what we’re up to, and tell them to find us something on the fresh CCTV footage I know they’re bringing us. If they don’t have any new video, tell them not to bother coming back to the office!”

Cook’s grin widened even further, threatening to split his face in half, as he reached for his phone. Barbara pulled one of the photos from Lisa Ramsey’s Facebook page that had Malcolm Bryce in it, and emailed it to Nkata and McConnell with an explanation.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The theatre was a hive of activity when they arrived. The cast and crew were bustling around the place, feeling the pressure because the play’s launch was just around the corner, so no one paid too much attention to the two police officers until Matthew Goddard spotted them and recognized Havers. His face fell when he realized who it was.

“Not again!” he exclaimed. “This is starting to border on police harassment, isn’t it?”

“Calm down! Your prints didn’t match, and we know your girlfriend said your story was true. We just have a few more questions.” Barbara pulled out the stills captured from the CCTV video. “Do you recognize this man?”

Goddard’s face continued to scowl, but he took the printouts she handed him and looked at them. “Well, these aren’t exactly professional headshots, are they? I can’t even see his face!” He handed the sheets back to her, but she refused to take them.

“Have another look. What about the clothes? Do you recognize that hoodie?”

Goddard looked again at the sheets. “Jeans and a hoodie? Half of London wears that on any given night. I don’t pay much attention to what other men wear, anyway.”

“Well, I guess we’d better chat with the others who were there that night, then, shouldn’t we? If you would just fetch them, please? Thanks so much,” Barbara said to him, then turned away and sat down in an adjacent row of red-velvet covered theatre seats.

For a minute, Goddard looked as if he intended to argue with her. Cook drew himself up and took a half step forward. Another glance at Barbara’s stony face, and Goddard thought better of refusing. The two police detectives watched as he walked to the stage, speaking briefly to a young woman, who then headed in their direction. Barbara remembered her from the first set of interviews with the theatre crew. Susan, Susan Blake.

“Hullo again, Susan. Sorry to disturb your rehearsal, but we have a few more questions for you.” Barbara handed over the images. “Recognize him?”

Susan’s face frowned as she studied the photograph. “It’s not the best photo, is it? I can’t say for sure, since his face is hidden, but Malcolm, who does our backdrops and scenery, he has a hoodie like that. Something to do with American football, I think he said. He’s a bit odd, Malcolm is. The only one I know who watches American football.”

“Was he wearing this the other night at the pub after rehearsals? The night Lisa Ramsey was killed?” Havers tried to keep any emotion out of her voice, but this was promising, very promising. She could taste it, feel the threads of the case starting to knit together.

Susan’s head tilted a bit and she made a face as she struggled to recall that night. “I think so, yes, maybe…but I honestly couldn’t swear to it. I’m sorry. Does this mean you think he did it?”

Barbara wasn’t sure if the young woman’s voice indicated fear, or fascination, or some of each. At any rate, they couldn’t have the girl blabbing it backstage at this point. “For now, we’re just trying to eliminate some things,” she said reassuringly. “We’ll need to speak with the others who were at the pub that night. If you would just send the next person over?”

“Is it enough?” Cook asked once Susan had walked far enough away to not hear them.

“It’s enough to bring him in, ask him some hard questions, get his prints. With any luck, we’ll get some corroborating evidence of some kind from the other CCTV tapes. Get a warrant, check his flat, his car…” Her voice trailed off as someone approached.

They made short work of the rest of the interviews. None of the others remembered as much as Susan Blake. They saved Malcolm Bryce until the end, and luckily, he was working backstage, so he had no idea they were there until they went to find him.

“Malcolm? I’m DS Havers, and this is DC Cook, with the Metropolitan Police. We have a few questions for you. Would you take a look at these photographs and tell us – “

The instant Bryce saw the images Havers was holding out in her hand he froze for a split second, and then ran for it, at top speed, toward the back of the theatre. Barbara swore, loudly. Cook set off after him, and Barbara shouted after him that she would circle round to the front of the theatre to cut their suspect off.

She was there, waiting at the entrance to the alley next to the theatre, blocking Malcolm Bryce’s escape, but in the end it was Cook who took him down. Havers had braced for impact, expecting the worst, assuming she would end up having to tackle him, but for once fate was smiling down upon her. Cook ended up with the knee torn out of his trousers, abrasions on his hands and a button missing from his jacket.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tommy Lynley was peeved. He sat nursing his whisky – he had gone for Islay tonight, the Laphroaig 25-year-old, wanting the smoky peatiness of it, nothing too smooth or tame for this evening. He leaned back into the leather chair and stared into the crackling fire before him.

Barbara had not called, and he was annoyed with himself, frustrated for caring, irritated that he could not seem to bring himself to just pick up the phone and call her…he had picked up the phone several times, and put it back down again without dialing.

Judith walked into the lounge and threw herself in a chair. “You look the way I feel,” she told her brother.

“Is her highness finally settled in now?” Tommy asked, laughing just a little bit. Judith nodded.

“God, she’s been a nightmare! I know she’s just compensating for the whole thing now she’s back at home, ordering us around to show she’s in charge, handling things, completely in control, but I could have murdered her today. At least it would have been an easy enough case for you to solve!”

“I don’t know about that. We have three good suspects right here in the house! Speaking of which, where is Peter?”

“Still up there. I escaped, left him to it. He’s the youngest, he can take it for a little while longer.” She looked over at Tommy. “What about you? Heard from Barbara?”

He shot her a stony glance, then stared back down into the bottom of his glass. “Leave it, Judith,” he warned.

She opened her mouth, about to say something, then changed her mind. She walked over to the bar and poured herself a drink, then grabbed the television remote and switched on the news. They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their drinks, the drone of the news in the background.

“Tommy…isn’t that Barbara?”

He looked up, focused on the television, and sure enough, there she was. Barbara Havers, talking to the press as though she had been born doing it. Then video of her, along with Cook, hustling Malcolm Bryce into New Scotland Yard through a throng of media, flashes going off, and microphones being thrust into her face…Hillier introducing her at the press conference as the investigating officer, then Barbara briefing them all on the case, answering questions…amazing.

“She’s doing well, isn’t she?” Judith asked.

“Incredibly well,” Tommy replied, hoping his voice would not betray all the emotion he was feeling. He was proud of her, excited for her, and terribly, terribly afraid this would mean she would leave him. A promotion was due to her, surely, and then what? They would no longer work together, and now he had ruined their personal relationship, so he would lose her completely. He forced himself not to drain his glass.

The news report ended, and Judith clicked the television off. She refilled her glass, then turned to face him. “I’ll leave you to it. You’ll want to call her.”

Tommy nodded a curt acknowledgement to his sister, and then picked up his phone and dialed as she walked out of the room.

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Shifting Perceptions – Chapter 11

 

I've never read the Elizabeth George novels, (Tommy as a blond?) but I thank her for creating Lynley and Havers...I’m a huge fan of the BBC series, and have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and at no profit to myself. I promise to return them unharmed, but hopefully very satisfied... I hope you enjoy!

Thank you so much to those who have left kudos!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tommy dialed the number, and as it rang, walked over to the dark wood antique sideboard and refilled his glass. It went to voicemail and he cursed under his breath, hanging up without leaving a message. He sat back down and sipped his whisky, making himself drink it slowly. He pulled out his phone again and texted her.

_Saw you on tv. Congrats. Call when you can._

The return text came mercifully quickly. _At pub shouting team a drink. Will call soon. Lots to tell you._

He relaxed when he saw her text. He could not have explained why, but the tension in his jaw lessened, and the death grip he had on the crystal glass in his hand eased enough that he was no longer in danger of exploding the damn thing in his hand.

It was nearly an hour before she called, and he picked up before the end of the first ring. “Barbara?”

“Just got home. Sorry about before. Had to shout the lads after all their hard work. How’s your mother, sir?”

“At home and driving us all a bit batty, to be honest with you,” he admitted. “At least when she was unconscious there was some peace and quiet!” Barbara laughed, and it was the most wonderful sound to him. He could picture her, her head thrown back, green eyes shining with amusement…best not to think too long on that. “Tell me about the case.”

“You’re the one who cracked it, sir. You were absolutely right about Malcolm Bryce. The footage of the man with Lisa outside the pub that Nkata managed to find? Well, Susan Blake identified the hoodie he was wearing as one belonging to Bryce. When we went to question him, he ran for it.”

“Who caught him?” Tommy asked. He had visions in his head of Barbara tackling the suspect.

“Actually, it was Cook. I was ready and waiting, but Cook got to him first.”

“You sound disappointed.” Tommy laughed at the tone in her voice.

“Not really. Cook managed to tear his jacket and his trousers, so I suppose it’s just as well. At any rate, we got him back to the Met, and in the meantime, Nkata and McConnell found another CCTV angle that showed a bit of his face, so that added to the evidence. Bryce refused to talk when we got him in an interview room, though.”

“Do you have enough to convict?” Tommy asked, a twinge of concern in his voice.

“Absolutely. We got a warrant, and found the hoodie from the CCTV, and Lisa’s phone in his flat.”

“Well done, Barbara! Not that I ever had any doubts you’d solve it.”

“That wasn’t all we found.” Her voice was more serious now. “We found more GHB, quite a lot of it. Also more phones, five in total.”

“Trophies? He’d done it before?” Lynley had a sinking feeling in his gut.

“Yeah, once we had the evidence from his flat, he was a little more forthcoming. He had dosed and raped other women. Sexual offences division is handling those cases, as he didn’t kill them. With Lisa Ramsey, he drugged her with the GHB, took her to his place, raped her, put her in his car and took her to the park outside her flat. Problem was, she woke up and remembered some of it. Started screaming at him. He hit her, then she got out of the car and ran, so he panicked. Killed her with a tire iron. Ditched her bag in the sewer, but kept the phone, as he had done before.”

“Barbara, do you realize he probably would have done this again? Escalation…once he got a taste for it…”

“I know. Sickening, isn’t it? We haven’t released everything to the press, because they’re still working on the other cases, compiling evidence. I’m glad sexual offences is handling the rest, to be honest with you.”

“You did well with the press. Hillier must be thrilled. You’ll be up for a promotion after this.” Tommy tried to keep his voice neutral and his emotions on an even keel.

Barbara made a scoffing noise in her throat. “I don’t know about that! I’d only take a promotion if you did, too. Can’t break up the team.”

Tommy smiled and his chest felt ridiculously tight. The storm clouds in his brain receded a bit, and the sun broke through. “No, we’re a good team. At any rate, it means you’re due some time off and will be able to come down to Howenstowe.”

“I’ve got a cart-load of paperwork to fill out – “

“It would mean the world to Judith,” he said, suddenly afraid she would not come.

“As I was saying, after tomorrow I should be reasonably clear, so I’ll come on Friday. I don’t think my car will make it all the way to Cornwall, so I’ll text you the information on my train.”

“Good.” He experienced a huge sigh of relief internally, but tried to give nothing away in his voice or breathing, afraid of scaring her off. “You deserve some time off, a break. You’ve done incredibly well. I’m proud of you.”

There was a long pause, and Lynley nearly held his breath for some reason. She finally spoke. “Thank you, sir. I’ll see you Friday.”

“Friday,” Tommy confirmed. “Sleep well, Barbara.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The next day was a madhouse for Barbara as she tried to wrap up all the paperwork for the case, with constant interruptions from congratulatory colleagues, kudos from Hillier and calls from the press. She finally took refuge in Lynley’s office, shutting the door and reveling in the quiet sanctuary it offered, although she refused to acknowledge the fact that part of the appeal was it made her feel closer to him even though he was miles away.

As she ate her vending machine lunch at his desk, she booked the train ticket to Cornwall online, and texted the information to him. His response was nearly immediate. He must be getting stir crazy, she thought. The rest of the day dragged on, filled with paperwork and tedium. It was a huge letdown after the adrenaline charge of working the case, solving it, getting someone as dangerous as Bryce off the streets, where he couldn’t hurt any more women. She found herself nearly drifting off at Lynley’s desk several times.

Which was somewhat ironic later, when she reached her flat after the long, boring day and found herself too wired to sleep. Normally after a case she would sleep deeply, her world crashing to a halt after the solution was found and the guilty party stashed behind bars, but this time was different. She was thrilled to have solved the case – with help from the team and Lynley, of course – but sleep was elusive.

She knew she was too worried and anxious about the trip to Howenstowe. She had been there several times before, and even though in her heart of hearts she would never admit it, she enjoyed going there. The scenery was so beautiful, and the house so warm and welcoming, although she felt like a trespasser, a pretender, in such a fine estate.

This time, there was the added layer of discomfort left by the devastating kiss she had shared with Howenstowe’s lord and master. Over the years, working with him, she had carefully constructed a set of rules and boundaries to keep them both in their respective places. She was down here, feet on the ground, nose to the grindstone, always working hard, earning begrudging respect from those around her, knowing her place, and the chip on her shoulder keeping everyone at a safe distance. While he, his lordship, was somewhere up there in the clouds above her, perfectly imperfect, women falling at his feet, men bowing before his obvious superiority, the respect there as a given, simply because there was never any question in anyone’s mind he was worthy of it.

She had to be on her guard in Cornwall. Judith would surely stick her poncy nose in where it didn’t belong – if she wasn’t too tied up with her own engagement party. And Lynley, who knew what he was thinking with his sister’s interference and the kiss. He was lonely and bored, so he thought he would amuse himself with his sergeant. Because she was there, because it would be easy…and it _would_ be so easy to say yes, so tempting, when he was so beautiful, so warm, when his body was so hard and his lips were so soft, and yet so insistent at the same time…

 _Damn it all to hell, anyway!_ Havers was furious with herself. She started out trying to think how to solve this problem, how to survive this weekend with Lynley and his family, and ended up fantasizing about his lips on hers, his body pressed up against hers, and, well…other things that could never, ever happen. _Stupid!_ She rolled over onto her side, the bedclothes rumpled from her tossing and turning. Eventually she drifted off into a fitful sleep.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Barbara was still tired the next morning when her alarm went off, and there was a great deal of cursing and grumbling as she showered, dressed, packed and dragged herself to Paddington Station to catch the train. Once aboard, she installed her headphones, protection against any chatty fellow travelers, and managed to sleep a bit on the trip to Cornwall, so she was reasonably well rested when she arrived on the platform at her destination.

Standing on the platform, she looked around, thinking Lynley might have sent a staff member from Howenstowe to collect her, but, no, there he was. Tall, dark and handsome, as always, every bit the lord of the manor, and heads, both male and female, turned to watch him as he prowled the platform, elegant and predatory in his movements. Time seemed to stand still, or enter some kind of alternate reality.

He turned, and saw her, his face transformed as their eyes met. All of the sudden, he was lighter, illuminated from within. He smiled, incredibly widely, his eyebrows raised, and he moved toward her, confident and sure. Barbara smiled back at him, and she walked toward him, but inside, her heart sank. How could she defend herself against this man, this impossibly attractive and leagues above her in every way creature?

They met, in the middle of the train platform, and she was afraid he would touch her, shatter her into a million little pieces right there. He raised his hand, and she braced for the onslaught, but he merely reached for her bag, and left her feeling foolish for even thinking it. _Why would he touch her? Stupid woman!_

“Trip okay?”

“Yeah, fine, thanks.” She relinquished her bag, even though she thought, _I could carry it myself._

“I’m glad you’re here.” A simple statement, delivered in his rich, velvety voice, but it was almost worse than the touch would have been.

She forced herself to hold steady on the outside, even though inside she shivered and trembled, for no reason she could explain, either to herself, or anyone else if they asked. There was a long pause, too long, and then she gathered herself together, and time moved forward again. She could do this; there was no other choice.

“So, are we headed to the ancestral pile or what?”

The drive to Howenstowe was almost like the old days, before things became so complicated. They talked about his mother, they talked about the case. The Bristol was familiar; the scent and the leather seats felt welcoming. Barbara relaxed a little bit. It would be all right. It had to be. The alternative to all right was unthinkable.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Judith must have been watching for them, because she was there to greet them as Tommy pulled up to the house. Barbara found herself enveloped in a huge hug, and then dragged into the house. Tommy was left to bring up the rear, her bag in hand. She looked back at him helplessly, and he shrugged, as if to say, ‘She’s a force of nature, what can I do?’

Judith began to speak as soon as Barbara was out of the car, and kept up a continuous stream all the way into the house, up the stairs, down the corridor and finally paused in front of the bedroom Barbara would use while she was there.

“How was your trip? I know how tiring it can be traveling on the train…we saw you on the television, you were amazing, Tommy was so impressed…you’re the first of our guests to arrive for the weekend, but then you’re really more like family…Mother is so looking forward to seeing you, and I am so glad you’re here for moral support for me. I’m really nervous about having David meet everyone, even though he’s already met Tommy…did Tommy tell you Peter is here, too? So it will be the whole family all together for the first time in a while. David gets here a little later this afternoon, and a friend of his is coming as well, Richard Bartram, and my friend Patricia from university, and a couple of the neighbours…honestly, I really can’t remember who is coming and who isn’t, since we scaled things back due to Mother’s illness, but she’s doing so much better. We’ll meet at six tonight for cocktails and dinner with just a few people, then the larger party is tomorrow night…oh, here we are, this will be your room this weekend. Tommy’s right next door, so if you need anything, just ask him. Get freshened up, and we’ll see you downstairs as soon as you’re ready.”

Judith finally – finally! – paused, and Barbara opened her mouth to respond, but was not fast enough. “I’m so glad you’re here!” Judith said, giving her another hug. “See you downstairs around six!” And with that, she was off.

Barbara turned and looked at Tommy, who had followed them into the house and up the stairs, carrying the luggage. She looked at him in exasperation. “Has she _always_ been like that?”

Tommy laughed as he carried her bag into the room and set it down. “Always! There’s no stopping her, so don’t even try! She does seem to be especially wound up for this, though. Must be because she’s introducing David to the family, I suppose.”

“That must be it,” Barbara agreed, thinking it would be interesting to see how they all reacted to Judith and David’s engagement announcement.

“Is the room all right?” he asked.

Her eyes widened in surprise. The room was nearly as large as her entire flat, and luxuriously furnished. “I’m sure I’ll manage somehow,” she teased. “It’s only a weekend, after all. I can rough it for that long.”

His answering smile told her he knew she was being sarcastic. “If you do need anything, I’m right there, as Judith said.” He gestured down the corridor, indicating the next door to the left. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

She nodded, closed the door behind him, and breathed a huge sigh of relief when she was alone. Time to think, a chance to relax a bit…she did both as she unpacked her bag, hanging her clothes up, putting her toiletries in the ensuite bath. She piled her hair on top of her head, securing it with a clip, then stood under the shower, as hot as she could stand it, for a few minutes, trying to unwind.

Half an hour later, she was dressed in some of her new clothes, hair fluffed, and a little bit of makeup on, for she knew she would hear from Judith if she didn’t wear any of the results of the makeover. Deep breath. Time to face the Lynleys.

David had arrived by the time Barbara made her way downstairs, and had been presented to Lady Asherton, who was holding court from a comfortable chaise, and Peter. David had apparently survived the initial introduction, for when Barbara smiled at him he winked back at her.

“Barbara, how lovely to see you! Welcome back to Howenstowe,” Tommy’s mother said.

“Thank you, Lady Asherton. I hope you are feeling better? I brought you a little something. Chocolate makes everything better, doesn’t it?” Barbara handed her the elaborately wrapped box she had brought with her for London. The gourmet sweets had been ridiculously expensive, but apparently she had done the right thing, for Lady Asherton’s eyes lit up in appreciation.

“Please, Barbara, you must call me Dorothy! What a lovely gift, how thoughtful. I’m so glad you came. You must keep Tommy from moping about the house too much.”

Peter and Judith both laughed, first at their mother’s comment, then even harder when they saw Tommy’s expression. Barbara grinned at him. “I’ll do what I can, Dorothy.”

The small gathering soon grew as more guests arrived, first Judith’s university friend Patricia Millars, then some of the neighbours, then David’s friend, Richard Bartram. Tommy was busy playing host, pouring drinks for each new arrival, but made sure to always circle back around to Barbara to make sure she was comfortable. The two of them were standing together when David approached them to introduce his friend.

“Tommy, Barbara, this is my very good friend Sir Richard Bartram. Richard, this is Judith’s brother Tommy Lynley, the Earl of Asherton, and Sergeant Barbara Havers of the Metropolitan Police.”

“Please, just Richard will do!” He laughed, and ran his hand through his sandy coloured hair, pale blue eyes twinkling as the creases at the corners deepened a bit. “And Lynley and I have met before. I was a year or two behind you at Oxford, although I wouldn’t expect you to remember me.”

“Bartram, yes, I do remember. Welcome to Howenstowe.” Tommy excused himself to greet some guests who had just arrived, and was sucked into a seemingly endless round of pouring drinks and making idle conversation. He glanced over at Barbara several times to check on her, but each time, she was deep in conversation with Richard Bartram.

When the time came to move to the dining room, Tommy scanned the room for her, intending to escort her, but she was already on her way out. On Bartram’s arm, and he was leaning into her, talking animatedly as they went. Barbara was looking back at the man, obviously interested in whatever dialogue they were having.

Judith happened to glance over at her brother just then and saw his eyes narrow and his jaw tighten. Following his line of sight, she realized what caused this reaction. _Just as well, she thought; it will do him some good to be a little jealous!_


	12. Chapter 12

Shifting Perceptions – Chapter 12

I've never read the Elizabeth George novels, (Tommy as a blond?) but I thank her for creating Lynley and Havers...I’m a huge fan of the BBC series, and have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and at no profit to myself. I promise to return them unharmed, but hopefully very satisfied... I hope you enjoy!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tommy sat at the dinner table, feeling completely and utterly trapped, with his mother on one side, and a long-time neighbour, Eileen Matthews, on the other. The two women were having a grand old time, rehashing all the local gossip, talking about people he either didn’t know or hadn’t seen in fifteen years. Local scandals weren’t really all that interesting if one didn’t know those involved, he decided.

He glanced down the table, curious to see how Barbara was faring; he knew she could be uncomfortable in social situations like this one. She was sitting between Richard Bartram and Judith’s David. Peter was seated across from her. Apparently he had nothing to worry about, he realized, watching her. She had the absolute attention of all three men; in fact, they appeared to be hanging on her every word.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not sure how he felt about this scene before him. Barbara not only was the centre of attention, she also appeared to be relaxed and enjoying herself, which pleased him. _Yes, but._ She threw her head back as she laughed, exposing the column of her throat. She looked beautiful, he thought, as if she had suddenly grown into her own skin, gained the confidence in herself, not only on the job, but personally, the self-assurance that had been missing. He desperately wished for a private table for two, simply the two of them, no distractions.

She turned her head and caught him staring at her. Their eyes locked and it seemed as though the rest of the room receded and time stood still. Then her lips and eyebrows turned upward as she looked at him, half smile and half query, head tilting a bit in his direction. He realized, suddenly, that someone was calling his name, and he was holding his breath.

“Tommy? Tommy!” His mother’s voice finally penetrated his skull, her tone both amused and exasperated.

“I’m sorry, Mother. What did you say?”

Eileen Matthews, who had known him since he was a young boy, laughed uproariously at him. “He’s back to earth finally, Dot! He’s been distracted all evening by that pretty partner of his! Are you sure she’s only a work partner, Tommy boy?”

He cringed inside, gut churning at the thought of his complicated, difficult, indefinable and currently in flux relationship with Barbara Havers being fodder for local gossips like this woman, who drank too much sherry and didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.

Lady Asherton gave her old friend a look which clearly stated she had gone far enough, and turned to her son. “I asked if you would escort me back to my bedroom, Tommy. I’ve had enough for one evening, even though it was lovely to see everyone.”

“Of course! I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did,” he replied, rising from his chair to assist her.

Conversation at the table paused as the guests realized Lady Asherton was leaving. Everyone wished her a good night, and Judith rose to help her back to her bedroom, but Dorothy sent her back to her seat.

“Tommy can do it, Judith, don’t fuss! You play hostess, and I’ll send your brother back down soon.”

Tommy could sense how tired his mother was; she leaned heavily against his arm as he slowly accompanied her to her room. At her doorway, she paused and turned to him.

“I’m very glad Barbara came down for a visit,” she said. He stood there, frozen, trying to think of an appropriate response, a not too revealing response. “It’s good to see her – after all, she’s practically family.” Dorothy smiled at her son and closed her bedroom door.

Tommy stood there, staring at the closed door for a moment, then turned on his heel and walked away, shaking his head as he puzzled over his mother’s comment, unsure what to make of it. Instead of heading back to the dining room, he went to the library, poured himself a single-malt from the sideboard and sank into a leather chair by the fire one of the staff had lit. Still Islay, but Bowmore this time, the fifteen-year-old. Smoke and spice, he noted, even though his mind was not truly focused on the potent amber liquid in his glass. A hint of toffee, too. _Her lips had tasted of toffee when he kissed them…_

He heard the door open, and turned toward the sound, irritated by the  interruption, but then realized it was Barbara. She closed the door behind her and walked tentatively toward him.

“You all right, sir?”

He didn’t answer her. “Fancy a drink?” he asked instead, moving to the line-up of bottles on the other side of the room.

“What was it I had the other night? With the dessert?”

“The tawny port? Yes, I’m sure we have some…here it is.” He opened the bottle, poured her a glass and held it out to her. Her fingers brushed his as she reached for the glass. He didn’t let go. “Why can’t you call me Tommy? You call my sister Judith, my mother Dorothy…”

“I…I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice wavering slightly, her cheeks flushing pink in the firelight.

The door to the room opened suddenly. Tommy cursed under his breath and let go of the glass. Peter, David, Richard Bartram and a couple of the other guests came in the room, and for the next several minutes, Tommy was busy pouring drinks for them. When he handed Bartram a drink, the man made a beeline for the empty seat next to Barbara on the other side of the room.

“You know, if you clench that bottle any tighter, you’re liable to end up with a fist full of glass,” Judith said, reaching for the vodka in Tommy’s hand, setting it back down. “You don’t approve.” Her eyes traveled over to Bartram.

“Vodka would never be my choice, but he can drink what he wants,” Tommy said lightly, ignoring the real question his sister was asking, but there was an edge in his voice that gave him away.

“He’s David’s closest friend, and I have to admit, I like him, too. That’s why I invited him to stay for the weekend.”

“He’s staying here? Well, that’s just bloody marvelous, isn’t it?” He topped up his glass with more of the Bowmore, then walked away before she could say anything else.

The rest of the evening did not improve for Tommy. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves, but Bartram continued to monopolize Barbara, and it annoyed Tommy to no end. After the fourth glass of whisky, he realized he wasn’t just annoyed, he was flat out jealous, which pissed him off even further. When he went for his fifth, he felt a hand on his arm.

“Don’t. Please, Tommy.” Barbara’s green eyes stared into his, intense, concerned. He put the bottle down with a sigh, and her body relaxed slightly. “I’m tired, so I think I’ll say good night.”

“I’ll walk you up. I’m tired, too.” They said their goodnights, although the others tried to convince them the night was young, and slowly climbed Howenstow’s grand staircase.

“I wouldn’t have stopped except you said my name,” Tommy said quietly when they reached the door to Barbara’s room. She paused, halfway through the door, and turned to face him.

“I know.” Her voice was nearly a whisper, then she turned and was gone, the door shut behind her.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When Lynley woke the next morning, he was glad he had stopped when he did. Clear-headed, not dehydrated, no headache – all in all, a vast improvement over the alternative had he given in to his horrible mood the night before and self-medicated with too much single-malt scotch. He smiled to think of his partner, who had obviously been watching him, checking up on him to see how many glasses he’d had. She’d cared enough to stop him, and knew him well enough to realize exactly what to say to make it happen.

Barbara’s voice, saying his name. He replayed the moment in his head over and over as he showered and dressed, and was in a very good mood indeed when he went downstairs for breakfast. He was the first to arrive in the dining room, and was halfway through his breakfast when David and Judith came in. David looked reasonably cheerful, but his sister was obviously feeling the effects of overindulging the night before. She went straight for the coffee pot.

“Where’s Barbara?” she asked once she had her first sip of caffeine.

Tommy bit into a piece of bacon, and waved vaguely at the ceiling. “She’s not much of a morning person, usually. I imagine she’s still asleep. You must have stayed up and tied one on for quite a while last night by the look of you.”

David laughed. “I think Judith is living proof this morning that you shouldn’t mix the grape and the grain! After the wine at dinner, Bartram had her trying all sorts of cocktails, and this is the result.”

“I’m pleased I went to bed when I did, then.”

“Oh, sod off, Tommy! Honestly, you’re normally worse than any of us. Barbara talked you into behaving last night, or you would not be so bloody chipper and self-righteous this morning!” Judith told him, then held her head in her hands, regretting she had spoken so loudly.

He grinned at her, then poured a cup of tea and disappeared from the dining room as David rubbed Judith’s back and offered sympathy. Tommy carried the tea upstairs and tapped softly on Barbara’s door. No answer. He opened the door very gingerly, poking his head around for a peek once it was wide enough to stick his head through. No sign of her in the bedroom. He pushed the door fully open and walked in. Not in bed, and the door to the bathroom was open, with no lights on. No sign of her there either. He set the tea down on her nightstand. Where the hell was she?

A thought crossed his mind – _what if she spent the night in someone else’s bedroom?_ – and the images flooding his brain had him enraged in an instant. He flung open the door to the wardrobe, taking a quick inventory of the contents. Her coat, the one she was wearing when she arrived, it was gone. _So she’s gone outside then. For a walk or something. Not in someone else’s bed._

The red rage in his brain drained away, leaving him shaking and astounded at the sheer level of emotion coursing through him. He hurried to his own room to grab a jacket, but when he got outside, he paused for a minute, suddenly aware he had no idea where she might have gone. The estate was huge, and she could be anywhere, but he had to find her, had to see her, talk to her.

The sea, she would walk to the sea, he thought, remembering her fascination with the cliffs and the views of the ocean when she had been to Howenstow before. He set off in that direction, half walking and half running, in a near panic to find her.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Shifting Perceptions – Chapter 13

So sorry for the delay in posting – real life has been, well, real life! I would never abandon a story and leave you hanging, so keep that in mind!

I've never read the Elizabeth George novels, (Tommy as a blond?) but I thank her for creating Lynley and Havers...I’m a huge fan of the BBC series, and have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and at no profit to myself. I promise to return them unharmed, but hopefully very satisfied... I hope you enjoy!

Reviews are much appreciated!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tommy’s head was in turmoil as he hurried along the path leading away from the house and toward the sea. When Barbara wasn’t in her room, his first reaction had been a tremendous surge of jealousy, followed by a terrible fear of…what, exactly? His feet were on autopilot, following the well-worn path as quickly as possible, but his brain was stumbling along, trying frantically to sort out the mix of thoughts and feelings jumbled in his head and heart. _Abandonment, he thought, that’s what I fear. If she were to leave me, there’s nothing left, no reason to get up in the morning._

The sun was burning off the morning fog as the sea came into view, and, suddenly, there she was. His breath caught in his throat and he stopped dead in his tracks. Her hair was backlit by the glow, brilliantly red gold, and her profile was to him, the strong cheekbones and jawline emphasized by the play of light and shadow on her face.

He had never thought about her appearance particularly, but in that moment he realized she was truly beautiful. Not in any conventional sense, perhaps, but those enormous, expressive green eyes, and the angles and curves of her face, spoke to him in a way no classic beauty, all polish and fine clothes, ever could.

He watched her for a moment, seeing the way she absorbed the scenery and the sunshine, the breeze coming off the sea, and he felt a calm come over him. She turned just then, and saw him. Her smile was surprised and happy and questioning all at once. It made him feel as though perhaps, just maybe, for once in his life, everything would be all right.

“Hullo, you!”

“I went to your bedroom, and you were gone. Thought you’d finally done a runner on me, that you couldn’t stand me anymore,” Tommy told her, a bit of a little boy lost in his voice.

“I’ve put up with you this many years, I’m hardly likely to take off at this stage, am I?” Her voice was cautiously light-hearted, but her eyes said she knew this was no joking matter to him.

“I couldn’t bear it if you did.” He took a step toward her, then stopped, uncertain. “Barbara, I – “

“Good morning! What a view this is!”

Tommy swore under his breath and turned away, furious at the interruption. Any intruder would have been unwelcome, but Sir Richard bloody Bartram, of all people…insufferable. He stood there, glaring at the man, but since Bartram only had eyes for Barbara, it didn’t matter anyway.

Barbara’s eyes were sympathetic as she looked at Tommy, but then she turned to Bartram and smiled. “Good morning to you, too,” she replied.

“What a lucky dog you are, Lynley! An estate like this, a fine morning, the most delightful company…Barbara, you don’t mind if I join your walk, do you?” Bartram did not wait for a reply, just took her arm and began to escort her down the path along the cliffs.

Barbara glanced back at her partner, an unspoken apology in her eyes, and shrugged at him. Tommy’s jawline tightened dangerously, and his whole body went a bit rigid as he fumed at the situation. He finally turned on his heel and headed back toward Howenstow, afraid of what he might say or do if he stayed and followed them.

Back at the house, Tommy buried himself in his study, diving into the piles of estate accounts and paperwork that had accumulated since his last visit. It was a good distraction for him under the circumstances, something else to think about, saving him from thinking too much about dangerous topics. For instance, how quickly would Barbara return from her walk with the utterly annoying Sir Richard…

Judith found him still in his study nearly three hours later, papers strewn all across his desk, and a deep scowl etched into the lines of his face. “Is it that bad?”

He looked up at her, startled by the interruption, then smiled ruefully. “Not the end of the world or anything, but I do think we’ll need to get someone else in to help with the estate now. Penellin’s not as young as he used to be, and with Mother’s illness…”

“We’ll have to set up some interviews, then, won’t we? I’ll ask around for recommendations, and we can get on to it first thing next week. But for today, aren’t you ready to take a break? Some of us are going into Nanrunnel for some lunch – come with us.”

“Honestly, I’m not much in the mood for company,” Tommy confessed. “I’ll stay here and finish plowing through this lot, get it over with.”

“All right, then, but you had best be over your sulk in time for the party tonight!”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“We missed you at lunch.”

Lynley looked up, surprised to see Barbara at the door to his study. ‘We’ rather than ’I,’ he noted. He glanced at his watch. Nearly four o’clock. “Sorry about that. I got a bit bogged down with some of this estate paperwork, catching up. Planning for the future, too. With my mother’s illness, some things will have to change.”

Her mouth opened in surprise, and he could see a hint of panic in her wide eyes. He watched as she repressed it, pushing the feeling down and away, and he knew exactly what caused her fear. He would feel the same if he thought she was leaving the job, leaving him. The realization gave him some measure of satisfaction; she wasn’t indifferent to him, at least as a work partner.

“We’ll have to hire an assistant estate manager, someone to help John Penellin, make sure my mother doesn’t try to do too much,” he explained. “I may have to be down here a bit more for a while, but I won’t leave the job. I won’t leave you, Barbara.”

Brilliant colour flooded her face as she realized how transparent she was to him, but she held his gaze for a moment, then smiled shyly at him. “I’ll leave you to it, then. I can see you’ve got a lot on your plate. See you tonight before the party?”

“Absolutely!” His answering smile was huge, and it made hers widen into a full grin. She disappeared from the doorway, but not from his thoughts as he wrapped a few more things up, then went upstairs to shower and change.

He decided he would make an effort the next day to get Barbara alone, show her some of his favorite spots on the estate, perhaps go for a drive up the coast, have lunch somewhere, just the two of them, maybe pack a picnic…He grinned at himself in the mirror as he shaved, amused at how he was planning a romantic day with a woman who refused to think of him in that way. _Time to convince her otherwise, he thought._

Tommy stepped out of his room at the same time Barbara emerged from hers, and the sight of her made him drop the cufflink he was in the process of putting on his sleeve. She was simply stunning in a black V-necked dress, fitted through the bodice, then flaring out into a knee-length skirt, her narrow waist accentuated with a black belt. He realized he was staring at her like an idiot, so he reached down to grab the cufflink.

“You look beautiful, Barbara,” he told her as he came up.

“It’s the dress. Fine feathers. And the makeup. Your sister insisted.”

“No, the dress and everything else just enhance what was already there. Let’s try this again, shall we? You look beautiful.” His tone dared her to argue with him, and he held out his arm to her.

She opened her mouth as if to launch into one of her snarky comebacks, then thought better of it, and took the arm he offered. “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

They were the first to arrive downstairs, and none of the guests had arrived yet. Lynley was glad to have a few moments alone before the social whirl of Judith’s party began to swirl around them.

“A glass of bubbly? Judith seems to have arranged for lots of champagne for the evening.”

“Perhaps she feels like celebrating,” Barbara said, not wanting to give anything away before Judith was ready to reveal her engagement secret.

“I’m sorry about today, that I wasn’t available, getting tied up with all the estate business…I’m afraid I haven’t been a very good host.”

“It’s all right, sir, really. You’re here to help out your family, to spend time with them, that comes first.”

“I was thinking tomorrow we could – “

“Ah, good, the party has already started! I’ll have a drop of that wine, Lynley, please.”

Tommy smiled at Richard Bartram and reached for the Veuve Clicquot, but the look in his eyes bordered on murderous. The damn man had been responsible for so many interruptions; how could someone’s timing be so impeccably bad? Bartram smiled and chatted away, all of it very polite, innocuous small talk, completely unaware of the effect he was having on his host.

Barbara hid her smile as she sipped her glass of champagne, amused at how irritated Tommy was. She was used to reading her partner’s feelings, and could sense how annoyed he was by Bartram, although she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why. They were two peas in a pod in some ways; same school, similar background, both toffs of the first order, moving in the same social circles, no doubt. The man certainly was getting Tommy’s back up, though, no doubt about it.

The rest of the house guests began to arrive then, including Judith, who was in fine fettle, hovering and fluttering over everyone, playing the ultimate hostess. When the other guests began to show up, her mood went up a notch further, if possible. Barbara, watching from the far side of the room after the first hour or so of the party, began to think her friend might explode before the engagement announcement could be made.

“Is she going to be all right?” Barbara asked David, who happened to be standing next to her. “You seem quite calm about tonight’s announcement, but your intended is a bit, well…”

“She’s definitely a bit high strung just now, isn’t she?” he laughed in reply. “She’ll be fine once the word is out, I think. That’s probably when I will start to worry about not being good enough for her, about her family not approving, and who knows what else I can find to fuss over.”

“You’ll be just fine. They all like you, and Judith loves you, which is all that really matters, after all,” Barbara assured him.

“Those are words to live by,” David said, with a meaningful look at her. “You certainly have captured the attention of my friend Richard.”

“Don’t be silly!” She shook her head. “He’s been polite, nothing more.”

“You’re the one who’s being silly,” he argued. “Richard is very taken with you. I’ve known him a long time, and I can tell. I also think my future brother-in-law is quite jealous.”

Barbara shook her head again, and laughed in denial, but her heart was pounding inside her chest at the very idea of Lynley being jealous. Her brain was grasping at straws, struggling to come up with some kind of coherent response, but she was saved by Judith, who was frantically waving at her fiancé to get his attention.

“Looks as though it might be time to make the announcement,” Barbara said, directing David’s attention to Judith.

“Wish me luck!”

“You don’t need luck, but you have all my good wishes, truly. Now, go claim your bride-to-be!”

Barbara leaned back against the wall, watching the scene in front of her unfold. Lady Asherton was ensconced in a large, comfortable armchair in the centre of the room, feet up on an ottoman, with Judith, David, Judith’s daughter Stephanie, and Tommy standing next to her. Peter lounged on a sofa nearby with a couple of pretty young things close to his own age, a dark shock of hair falling over his eyes. All sorts of well-dressed people were milling about, laughing, drinking champagne and having a marvelous time.

It was a bit like seeing a play on a stage, Barbara thought. All the beautiful people, dressed in such lovely clothes and playing their parts so well, while she stayed on the edge of the room, ever the wallflower. She watched Tommy, tall, dark and handsome, as always, but tonight even more so, in his dark gray suit, with a cream shirt and a perfectly knotted tie, the lord of the manor, completely in his element.

He turned toward her just then, and caught her watching him. The rest of the room receded when their eyes met, as though all the sound and motion paused, and it was only the two of them. He smiled at her, an enormous smile, heartfelt and full of truth, so unlike the pasted-on polite smile he used on these occasions. He began to move in her direction, but his sister grabbed his arm, stopping him from moving away.

Judith pulled a ring out of her pocket, put it on the third finger of her left hand, and then used it to tap against her crystal champagne glass to get everyone’s attention. Tommy shrugged an apology at Barbara, but kept his eyes on her rather than his sister.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt the party, but I did have an ulterior motive in mind when I asked you all to come here to Howenstow this evening,” Judith began, gripping David’s hand tightly in her own. “I’m still not quite sure how I managed to become so lucky, but this amazing man has decided to make me the happiest woman in the world, and has asked me to marry him. I can only hope that the rest of you are so lucky in love.”

David leaned in to kiss her, and as gasps of surprise and applause began to fill the room, Judith pulled away from him, giggling with delight. She raised her glass, first toward her mother, then toward her brother and finally to Barbara. As a crush of people surrounded the happy couple, Tommy kissed his sister’s cheek, and shook David’s hand, and then escaped and made his way to where Barbara was standing.

“You knew.” It was a declaration rather than a question. “I was watching you as she said the words, and there was no surprise on your face.”

Barbara nodded. “I did. She told me when we went shopping in London. She’s asked me to be a bridesmaid. I was under strict orders to keep it quiet.”

“Shows you how I rate! You’re more a member of the family than I am. You knew before I did.”

“Don’t be stupid!” Barbara protested. “Now get back over there. Your mum will want to talk to you about this, and you should share this with them. Go on!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Tommy grinned at her bossiness, then reached out his hand and squeezed her fingers before he turned and left her.

She flushed at the direct, unexpected contact, and turned, running into Richard Bartram as she did so. “Sir Richard, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be, I’ll always be happy to have you bump into me. And please, call me Richard! I was just coming to refill your champagne,” he explained, holding the bottle in his hand up and gesturing toward her glass. “I understand we’ll both be part of the wedding party, and that is something to look forward to, indeed.”

Barbara smiled back at him, and held out her glass to be filled. _He certainly is very friendly, she thought. Perhaps David was right – although it’s hard to believe Sir Richard fancies slumming it with me._

 

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

Shifting Perceptions – Chapter 14

I've never read the Elizabeth George novels, (Tommy as a blond?) but I thank her for creating Lynley and Havers...I’m a huge fan of the BBC series, and have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and at no profit to myself. I promise to return them unharmed, but hopefully very satisfied... I hope you enjoy!

Thank you so much for the kudos, reviews and encouragement!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

For Judith’s sake, Tommy played the welcoming host that evening, circulating, talking to everyone, making sure the drinks and food were plentiful so his sister and her fiancé could simply enjoy themselves, but as the night went on, his duties grated on his nerves. Or rather, truth be told, Bartram grated on his nerves. Pissed him off completely, in fact.

Every time Tommy looked for Barbara, the man was hovering near her. He brought her more wine, he offered her food, he monopolized her attention. The man also stood far too close to her. Granted, the room was full of people and the noise level was high, but Bartram had no business standing so close to Barbara. And she had no business smiling back at him, or enjoying herself in his company.

Tommy recognized that these thoughts and feelings all stemmed from jealousy, although the knowledge didn’t lessen the impact. He knew he had a streak of the green-eyed monster in his personality – not one of his most endearing traits – but he felt completely unprepared for how strong his reaction was to the circumstances. He wanted to punch the man for simply talking to her, for god’s sake.

He was relieved when he saw others join the social circle around Barbara. The neighbours from the next property over from Howenstow. The local magistrate. The vicar, school friends of Judith’s; they all came and went, she spoke with everyone, and they all seemed utterly charmed by her. More than one of the party guests said as much when they spoke to him.

The awkward woman from Acton, who was so determined to find fault and not fit in with anyone, had conquered this new social setting she found herself in without any difficulty at all. Tommy wasn’t really surprised; he just hoped she could see how she could thrive anywhere if she let herself. Even his world. Perhaps she would finally see they weren’t so very far apart after all.

He made several attempts to make his way across the room to Barbara, frustrated each time by one call or another on his attention. When he finally broke free, he found her sitting with his mother, the ever faithful Sir Richard still hovering nearby. Tommy sat across from them, eyes glaring at the other man. Lady Asherton’s eyes twinkled a bit as she looked at her son.

“Richard, would you mind refilling my glass? Sparkling water, I’m afraid. These damn doctors won’t let me have any fun.”

“Of course, Lady Asherton. Barbara?” The younger woman shook her head, and Bartram set off in search of sparkling water.

“I’m afraid I’ve abandoned you this evening, Barbara,” Tommy apologized. “It seems everyone wants a piece of me tonight.”

“Really, sir, it’s fine – “

“She’s managing just fine without you, Tommy,” Lady Asherton interjected, watching him closely. “Everyone is delighted with her. And Richard has been so attentive.”

“Yes, I had noticed,” Tommy said wryly.

“He’s just being kind,” Barbara protested, rolling her eyes at him. His expression back was easy enough to read: _I don’t believe that for a second._

“I had started to ask you earlier, Barbara, about plans for tomorrow. I was thinking – “

“Tommy!” Judith cut in. “It looks as though the champagne stocks are running low. Chase up some more, will you please?” His sister darted off, not waiting for an answer.

He sighed. “In Judith’s world, a champagne shortage is life or death. Excuse me.”

As Lynley walked away, Bartram returned, handing Lady Asherton a glass of sparkling water. “Thank you so much. Don’t let us keep you from the party, Richard.” The dismissal was unmistakable, and he took the hint with good grace.

“He was hovering a little too much, dear, don’t you think?” Lady Asherton’s voice showed her amusement.

“Maybe a little,” Barbara conceded, laughing. “I really do think he only means to be friendly – “

“My dear, if he gets any more friendly, the two of them will be dueling in the side garden!”

Barbara’s eyes widened at the comment, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She found herself hoping she would just sink into the floor rather than think of some kind of response to Lynley’s mother. “Lady Asherton, I – “

“It’s Dorothy, my dear, remember? And I may have been under the weather recently, but I’m not stupid, and I know my son. It’s not hard to see how he feels.” Lady Asherton took pity on the younger woman, seeing the distress in her face. “I won’t embarrass you further by asking how you feel. Now, I think I’ve had enough of this lovely party. Will you help me to my room?”

Barbara smiled at her and nodded, although her face was still a brilliant pink. “Of course, Dorothy. I’d be happy to do that.”

The two women escaped the party, and made their way slowly through the old manor house. At her bedroom door, Lady Asherton paused and turned back to look at her companion. “I’m just very glad Tommy has you in his life. You really are like one of the family to us, you know.”

The door closed softly before Barbara could react, and she stood there for a minute, staring at the closed door, thoughts swirling in her brain, and completely unsure of her next move.

“Barbara? You all right? I came to check on you…” Lynley’s voice was tentative, and it trailed off, seeing her body tense in response to his words. “…and mother.” She finally turned to look at him, although it seemed to take an eternity, and the tension in her face was easy to see.

“She’s fine, just tired, I think. The party wore her out. I’m tired as well. I suppose I’ll turn in early, get a good night’s sleep.” She didn’t wait for an answer, just turned and began to walk away.

“Pleasant dreams,” Tommy called after her. He watched her for a moment before returning to the party. For Judith’s sake, he told himself, even though he was hardly in a mood to celebrate. Nothing could ever be easy with Barbara Havers, he supposed. Every battle would be hard fought, but the war was worth winning.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The next morning, Barbara stood in front of the bathroom mirror, eyes bleary, hair dripping wet, feeling miserable and sorry for herself. She had not slept well, in spite of turning in so early, tossing and turning until well after midnight, wrestling with too many conflicting emotions. Even after she fell asleep, her dreams would not let Tommy go, and his dark eyes and warm lips invaded her sleep throughout the night. Even her morning shower had not made her feel any better.

As she dragged a comb through her hair, she decided to return to London early. She would get a train, get back to her own bed in her own flat, without any Lynleys there to torment her, asleep or awake. The whole lot of them were driving her to distraction, and the sooner she was rid of them, the better.

She finished dressing, took a deep breath, and braced herself for breakfast and the possibility they would gang up on her there. She felt as though they were traveling in packs, waiting to pounce on her with their polite but lethal assaults on her emotions. Well-meaning but deadly, for sure. She paused before the dining room doors, arming herself as best she could before she pushed them open to face, well, nothing.

Not nothing exactly. Only Peter Lynley, who looked up from his breakfast long enough to give her a half smile and a nod before he returned to whatever was so fascinating on his mobile. So, easy enough. A silent younger brother she could handle. Coffee, fresh fruit, toast, and she couldn’t resist a bit of bacon. Perhaps there were some advantages to being a toff, after all.

She managed most of her meal and a cup and a half of coffee before Richard Bartram arrived, looking cheerful in that way only dedicated morning people can at breakfast. He chattered away at her, loading up his plate with a full English, alternating between talking and eating, and luckily not requiring much in the way of a response from her. She indulged in another cup of the coffee – trust Lynley to have delicious coffee even at his bloody country estate – and answered mainly in monosyllables until she mentioned she was planning on traveling back to London on the train.

“Perfect! I’m driving back to London today myself, so I’ll drive you. No arguments, I insist,” Bartram said, and she had to admit, it did sound better than hours on the train.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Lynley said goodbye to John Penellin and proceeded to the dining room, feeling the need for some coffee and food. He had to admit, he wasn’t as young as he used to be. Once upon a time, he could do a late night followed by an early morning – including quite a few all-nighters in his Oxford days – but these days, he paid the price.

He had stayed up quite late last night, although he would never admit his motive was to ensure that Richard Bartram went to bed in his own damn room, not someone else’s. And this morning, it was an early start to go over a few things with the estate manager…more coffee, that was the ticket, some caffeine to get through the day.

He poured himself a cup, put some food on his plate and sat down, looking around the dining room. At least he hadn’t had too much to drink last night on top of everything else. Judith looked like death warmed over, even though it was now past 11 in the morning, and David was only slightly better, so it could have been much worse than mere lack of sleep.

“Don’t think so loud, Tommy,” Judith groaned.

Lady Asherton laughed, and Tommy had to smile at his sister. “I should have had you up at the crack of dawn to tour the estate with me, Judith!”

“You had better remember this lesson for the hen party, my dear,” Dorothy said, laughing, getting a grimace from her daughter for an answer.

“Where’s Barbara?” Tommy asked, and watched his mother’s smile fade.

“She left you a note. I think she felt you had your hands full, and she didn’t want to be in the way, so she left for London this morning.” A gesture from Lady Asherton, and the note appeared on a silver tray, addressed to him in that oh-so-familiar scrawl.

_Sir,_

_Thanks for the lovely weekend. You’ve obviously got a lot on your plate, and I don’t want to intrude on your family time, so I’ve gone back to London early. I’ll see you back in the office when you return,_

_Barbara_

He tossed the note aside, and looked at his watch. “She caught the train?” It was more a statement than a question, but there was no immediate response, so he looked up. His mother’s face first. Sympathetic expression, worried eyes. He glanced at his sister next.

“She planned to take the train, but Richard was traveling back to London today, so he’s giving her a lift,” Judith explained. ”They left about an hour ago.”

“Right, well, at least she doesn’t have to mess with the train.” He drained his coffee cup, and stabbed at the last bits of food on his plate. “I’ll be in the stables if anyone needs me.”

Two hours later, he was exhausted, and the stallion was lathered after a vigorous workout. He walked the horse until he cooled down, groomed him and put him back in his stall before returning slowly to the house. The ride had helped a bit, but he was still in a state, and had no idea what to do next. He had hoped to slip into the house unnoticed, using a back entry, but his mother was there anyway.

“Tommy.” The way she said it, his name was a question, a caution and an accusation all in one, as only a mother could manage.

“I’m fine, Mother,” he told her, his teeth grinding a bit over the words. She tilted her head, not buying it for a minute.

“Go after her, Tommy. Talk to her. However it ends, you can’t leave it like this.”

He paused for a long time, poised for an argument, body tense, eyes stormy. Then, slowly, it all drained away from him. If their relationship had been different, he might have leaned in, kissed her cheek, smiled, but as it was, he nodded, somewhat curtly, and walked quickly past her down the hallway. If he saw her smile, or heard her whisper of ‘good luck,’ he never would have admitted it, nor would he have confessed to the slight upward twitch of his lips as he bounded up the stairs.

Twenty minutes later, he was showered, changed, packed, loaded into the Bristol, and headed through the gates of Howenstow, on his way to London.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The sun had set by the time he pulled into a parking space across from Barbara’s flat. Tommy switched the engine off, and sat there in the semi-darkness, half in the shadows, and half in the glow of the streetlights and the warm amber light cast by the banks of windows in the block of flats she lived in. He still had no idea what he would say to her, even though he had been thinking about it for the entire drive from Cornwall.

As he sat there, her door opened, and she stepped out with Richard Bartram. They spoke for a moment, and Bartram reached out to grasp her upper arm, then leaned in and kissed her cheek before he turned to leave. Tommy’s body was perfectly still as he watched the scene before him, but inside, he was seething with rage.

Bartram walked to his car, waved and drove off. She stayed on the front step of her flat, watching until he was out of sight, and next, somehow, she was at the Bristol, opening the car door.

“You’d better come in, don’t you think?” She stepped back, giving him room to unfold his long legs from the car, her arms crossed in front of her, face giving nothing away.

Once inside her flat, she poured them both drinks, wordlessly handing him a glass. A small part of him stayed detached from the situation, analyzing the vanilla notes in the golden liquid as he searched for courage in the tumbler full of whisky. Glenmorangie, he recognized, the 10-year, his usual in a pub that didn’t offer a wide selection of single malts.

She must have bought it to have when he came over, as she didn’t normally drink whisky herself, he thought, before he realized she could have bought it for anyone. She could have bought it tonight for Bartram, on the way home. _You’re an arrogant fool, Lynley!_ _They should have been three hours ahead of him, at least…where had they been, what had they done…_ His heart was pounding, reacting to fear and jealousy in equal portions.

He forced himself to look up at her as she sat on the other end of the sofa. Her flat suddenly seemed impossibly small. After working together so closely, for so long, he could see her brain working; observing him, analyzing his expressions, judging him, reading him. He felt very naked and exposed, and suddenly had a small measure of empathy for the suspects she questioned.

The silence was painful, dragging on forever until she finally broke it. “What are you doing here, sir?”

He leaned forward, setting his drink down on the coffee table and dragging his fingers through his hair before looking back at her to answer. “You left, and I couldn’t bear it.” No change in her expression. Of course not. It wasn’t enough, and he knew it. “You left with him, and I really couldn’t bear it.” He drained his glass. “We kissed, and you pulled away, said we had to pretend it never happened, and that was also unbearable.”

She looked away, her head down and her body hunched in on itself as she stared into her glass, so he knew he had reached her. He just wasn’t sure how, or what it meant. He longed to touch her, ached for it, and knew he shouldn’t, which made the longing worse, much worse.

“Do you know when I first fell in love with you?” he asked. Her body retreated even further, but there was no stopping now. “When Garrett was holding you hostage in that damned pub, and I couldn’t get to you…Then, when we got inside, and you were there, alive, and I got my arms around you…”

His voice trailed off. He couldn’t see her face, for her hair had fallen forward around her, but her whole body was shaking, quivering all over. “Barbara?” It was all there, in the way he said her name, love and hope and anguish and fear.

She raised her head, green eyes spilling over with tears. “Damn you, Lynley! I was doing fine at first, but now – “

His hand went to her face, cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking under her jawline. He still wasn’t sure if he should have touched her, how it would go, and he realized he was holding his breath, but next her body relaxed and her lips came toward his and he knew it would be all right.

Her mouth was on his, so sweet, softly at first, and then more demanding, her hands in his hair, tilting his head for better access, mouths opening, tongues seeking. She ended up across his lap, straddling him, pressing herself against him as his hands sought out the bare skin of her back underneath her jumper, stroking her.

Their breathing grew ragged and their lips finally separated. Tommy reached out to hold her face and wiped her tears away with his thumbs. He smiled. “You can’t expect me to forget that, you know.”

She laughed and sighed at the same time. “I should have known it was a lost cause after the first one, actually. And then you had to go and tell me when you fell in love with me. And of course it had to be the same moment I fell in love with you. Hopeless.”

She leaned forward, pressing her cheek against his, her lips by his ear. “Take me to bed, Tommy,” she whispered. “Now.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

 

I hope you all enjoyed that – thanks for sticking with me through all of this! I am planning a short epilogue chapter to follow, so I’m not marking this complete just yet. I’ve also thought of writing a separate, but related one off that would describe the M rated activity to follow – not sure if I can (blushes) or if there is interest?


	15. Epilogue

Shifting Perceptions —Epilogue I've never read the Elizabeth George books (Tommy as a blond?!) but I am a huge of the BBC series, and I have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and no profit to myself. I promise to return them unharmed but hopefully very satisfied...I hope you enjoy!

Many thanks to all those who have left reviews and encouraged me! This story really finished with Chapter 14, but I felt a short epilogue was needed to wrap a few things up...

••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was warm, and she felt comfortable and beautiful and loved. She couldn't remember the last time she felt that way, and her brain struggled with the transition from being asleep to waking up. Such a nice dream...except she was now awake, and Tommy's long, lean body really was wrapped around hers, his arm around her waist, their legs intertwined and his head nestled into her hair as he slept. She moved slightly, stretching a bit, and he curled against her body even further, tightening his arm around her as if he thought she might try to escape.

She laughed internally at the idea of escaping. She had tried for years to avoid this situation, afraid of her own feelings, sure he had none for her, certain it would never work, and look where that had led her. To this very morning, waking up in his arms, feeling warm and loved.

She had spent so many years denying this part of herself, focused solely on her job, aside from the disastrous dating service attempts. Last night, and this morning, though...it was miraculous, although she still couldn't see how a relationship could work between them for the long term. For a little longer, she thought, I will just enjoy this moment. She sighed contentedly, and snuggled against him.

"If you keep wriggling your bottom against me like that, I can't be held responsible for what happens next," Tommy warned, his voice thick with sleep and the beginnings of desire.

Barbara turned in his arms and rolled over to face him, smiling shyly. "Good morning." He kissed her, softly. "It is a very good morning," he agreed. "No regrets?"

"No regrets." Her eyes were huge, uncertain. "Some concerns. Fears."

"Then we deal with them. Together. I'm not giving you up, Barbara. Not now. Not ever." "But the job, and you being a sodding earl, and —"

"None of that matters. We'll figure this out, I promise you, we can make this work." He was stroking her now, her face, over her shoulder, down her side, to her thigh and back, as though he could soothe her fears away. "As for the job, if it ends up I have to give up working with you to be with you, then so be it. You're due for a promotion, anyway, especially after your stellar work on the Lisa Ramsey case."

"But honestly, I'm crap at relationships, and —" He leaned in then and kissed her, lips pressing on hers, teasing her mouth open and drowning out the sounds of protest. She didn't try to resist for long, not when he was so warm, and his lips and tongue felt so good. When their mouths finally parted she leaned back with a sigh, caressing his chest.

"What we have between us, it's incredibly rare," he said, pulling her closer to him. "I love you. The trust and friendship we've built over so many years, and then this chemistry we have, I've never felt anything like it. If you tell me you don't feel it, too, I won't believe you."

"I can't tell you I don't feel it," she admitted.

"So no more Sir Richard Bartram at your doorstep from now on," he warned, his voice teasing, but with an edge to it as well.

She laughed and shook her head. "You should thank him, actually."

"Why on earth would I thank the man who has been fawning all over you the entire weekend? The one who kissed your cheek as he left last night, at least three hours after you should have finished the drive back to London!"

"Jealous, are you? Yes, you should thank him, because he's the one who made me realize that perhaps a toff could be interested in me, after all. I mean, he knew who I was, where I'm from, and he made it clear that he was still attracted to me."

Her fingers were still trailing across his chest, distracting him, but Tommy made himself focus on what she was saying. "You always underestimate yourself, Barbara. And the rest?"

"Well, he's not as fast a driver as you are. And we stopped for lunch. And then when we got back to London, he asked me out to dinner."

"You didn't have to say yes!"

"There was no food in my flat, not even any bread for toast. So we went to dinner and had a nice time. He's a very nice man, really. Then he brought me to the flat, and helped carry my bag in."

"And?"

"And nothing. He kissed me goodnight — " She could feel his body tense up, and it stopped her short.

"Barbara..."

"And I told him it was impossible, that there was someone else. He took it like the gentleman he is, gave me a friendly peck on the cheek and said good night. And then there you were, sitting in the Bristol, looking like...I don't know what you looked like."

"I looked like I wanted to murder someone, him. I wanted to kill him because he had taken you away from me, and then he was here, and touching you...I was furious. I was so incredibly jealous."

"You know, when he went to kiss me, I let him, because I wanted to compare it to yours. That's when I knew it was hopeless, really, and that I couldn't fight it anymore. Because there was no comparison."She nuzzled into his chest. "And that is why you should thank him."

"I'll send him a thank-you note on our wedding invitation, shall I?" he asked, stroking her hair. She looked up at him then, eyes wide, and he couldn't really read the expression on her face.

"Don't be daft!"

"Then we're not inviting him?" Tommy teased. "You can't marry me. I'll never fit into your world."

"You're the one who's being daft! You already do fit into my world, perfectly. We work together, we spend time out of work together, and that is not by chance, it's by choice. This weekend in Howenstow, everyone thought you were delightful, no one thought you didn't belong there. My sister and mother certainly seem to think we belong together. You are the only one who seems to have a problem with the idea of us. I shall just keep asking you until you say yes."

Barbara opened her mouth to reply, then thought better of it, shaking her head before trying again. "Do you know, it's really difficult to have an argument like this when we're naked and in bed together!"

"Exactly! There are far better things to do when we're naked in bed together." His mouth was on hers again then, and there was no more discussion for quite some time.


End file.
